Deep Within the Caverns of My Mind
by Lady Twi
Summary: There is nothing left for Hermione, or so she thinks. Protected by her Comforts in a lone house, can she learn to let herself live once more?
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger shifted among the covers laid loosely on her in an effort to move to a cooler part of the bed, only to find that something was pressing against her. Something soft, reminding her of an old teddy, was pressing down on the right side of her waist. Except it was hot.

With a little sniff, Hermione used her arm, the one that was only slightly restricted due to her body being on top of it, to curl her hand back around her chest to gently touch this something. Touch this something so comforting. As she felt her fingers dust across it, her pinkie came into contact with something hard, with a sharp edge on one side, and softness on the other.

A fingernail.

Hermione moved her finger further up, tracing a path along the knuckle until she came upon the back of a hand. She paused, only to feel something jig her hand. She felt her arm slip, and upon feeling a soft warm body underneath, she quickly retracted it. As she let her hand rest, she didn't feel softness, but something rough rubbing against her. It took a few moments of gentle probing before Hermione realised that it seemed to begin at the middle finger, before curling across the back of the hand and doing a near circle around the wrist.

Charlie. That was the scar only Charlie had endured. And the only reason Charlie had it was because he had tried to…

No. No!

All she should care about, at the moment, was that this meant that it was Charlie who was the one who had his arm lying on her waist. Though she should have guessed as Charlie did have the wretched nails. No matter what length they grew to, or how jagged they became when they broke, Charlie would not clip them short.

So Charlie was pushed up against her back, with his arm curled around her waist. It wasn't a complete stranger. It was Charlie.

Hermione felt a relieved sigh hiss through her lips. Only Charlie.

But he still made her hot. And she couldn't have that. The warmth the bed generated was bad enough, without adding the fact that she had to be crushed up against Charlie.

Hermione gave a little wiggle, except she couldn't get enough of a grip to slide further up, away from Charlie. And his arm wasn't moving, not with his elbow planted firmly on her hip and the lower half hanging off. It seemed the only part of him that wasn't touching her was his legs, but that didn't change the fact that Charlie was not going to move away from her back.

Damn.

But that didn't stop Hermione from giving squirming again. As much as she loved Charlie, that didn't mean she could stand the heat he was emitting. She had to escape.

Except just as her body managed to slide ahead a few centimetres, she discovered that there was heat being pressed up against the front of her. And it was just as soft as on her front. That meant it was another body.

Damn it. She needed to get away from these two bodies. She could handle being squished up against one of the ones she loved, but not when she was sleeping. Or trying to.

Leaning back against Charlie, Hermione felt her body stiffen upon hearing him grunt. She paused, not wishing to wake him up. He spent enough of the night with his eyes open, talking in harsh whispers to the rest when they thought she was asleep in one of their arms. But Charlie seemed to only give a soft sigh, before he returned to sleep. Giving one of her own, Hermione tried to free her left arm again as she used her other hand to proper herself up.

She always felt too hot when pressed up against two others when she woke up, especially…

Shit! Hermione lost her grip on the mattress and forced her to lash out with her right in order to regain her balance. And she felt the hand flick against something. What, she couldn't tell, but it might mean that she would wake either one of the two, up. Even the slightest of noise or the tiniest of touches were enough to wake up any of them, and half the reason was because of the world around them. And what was happening directly affected them, even if they weren't in the thick of it.

The other half was because of her.

But that wasn't the point. Not all of them were pleased when they were woken up rudely. And by rudely, it meant that the reason why they were awake was because she wanted to get away from them. Her moving to escape their heat meant that she would be leaving the bed, and journeying downstairs, in the middle of the night.

No, they didn't like it at all when she didn't remain in bed, even if she was awake.

But she always did feel too hot when she woke up against two others, and it wasn't as if she could blame the fact that she was awake only on that. Hermione rarely could pass a night without waking up at least once, and sometimes it was because her mind filled her with horror upon reminding her that…

No. No! All she needed to think of was the one she might have woken up. Or both. And she didn't need to face the two of them about her being awake, again. Even though it had been no fault of her own, Charlie had scolded her earlier. Somehow she had fallen asleep at nine, when the entire group were all resting in the living room, but her body wouldn't let her sleep straight through. Two hours later, her body had jerked awake and jolting Charlie, who had been holding her in his lap, nearly out of the chair by the fire. It had only been by Oliver intervening that she hadn't been sent straight up to bed, with him being her accompanist.

In the end, it had been decided, by a vote of the rest of the group and her, as usual, not having a say, that she was to be sent to bed an hour later. And at eleven, Charlie had cradled her into his arms, stood up and told her to say goodnight to the rest of them. Even though she had protested fiercely against it, as always she had been overruled and had found herself in Charlie's bed.

But when she had finally nodded off, only Charlie had been with her. Someone else must have snuck into the room later on and crept underneath the covers. But who?

Hermione gently lifted her right arm from Charlie's arm, hovering as she tried to not knock into the warm body. So far, she had been lucky that neither of them had woken up, and she wasn't going to test her luck. So she made sure that her hand slowly moved back and forth as it made its way down until it felt heat below the palm. Hermione made her hand still for a few seconds, before allowing herself to rest the tips of her fingers on the skin.

And came into contact with a nose. A nose that bore two rough scars, wounds she knew very well. Hermione could picture in her mind that the two scars would arch across the right side of the cheek, before coming to an end underneath the bottom lip. Yes, Hermione knew the path of these two scars well. For they belonged to Bill.

Bill was wounded with them after the attack that had finally shattered any small belief Hermione might have had that the War could be escaped. Dumbledore had forced Snape's hand and had made Snape sacrifice him for the greater good. The flight of Snape as he knew that any chance of simply declaring his allegiance with The Order of the Phoenix was now nil had only cinched the deal. There was no going back.

And what had happened to Bill when he was trying to protect Hogwarts had been the crushing blow. At the time, she hadn't had this group to comfort her, and had relied on the help of… She hadn't been told of how Bill learned to control his lyncthropy. She hadn't even remained at Hogwarts long enough to do more than drop in once before she had left the sanctuary of the grounds and had travelled to far away places in order to do her part for the War.

It was only several months later, after managing to destroy all but one of the Horcruxes, that Hermione had learnt the state of Bill. Remus Lupin had helped Bill during those months, and had been the one to positively identify that Bill wouldn't become a Werewolf, but would suffer under several of the symptoms. Though he wouldn't Change, Bill would still be allergic to silver, and would feel ill before and after the Full Moon. On the actual night, Bill would need to be sedated in order to control the flood of emotions that would rage through his body, and this potion was provided at first by Pomphrey, and upon their home becoming this house, Fred and George.

Who would have ever thought that Fred and George would be quite good at Potions?

The sound of a crack destroyed the small smile that had crept over her lips. Instinctively, Hermione's upper body jerked off the bed as her left arm pressed up against the mattress and the right arched in front of her chest. She couldn't stop herself from moving into a defensive position when there was such a loud noise made near her. Sounds like that made her uneasy, and even knowing that there were two others in the room with her wouldn't help. The memories associated with those noises only brought her to…

Hermione gazed around the room, her eyes widening as she struggled to see what possibly could have disturbed her. But the entire room was cloaked in shadows, and the only light was from the window, where even though there were clouds covering the moon, it still seemed to be lighter outside. And then a sudden bright light.

Hermione felt her body snap as her mind tried to shrink further into the mattress, but within a few seconds, her brain kicked in and give her a reasonable answer for the light. It was only the lightening. The storm that had been brewing as she had been settling down in Charlie's bed in an attempt to obey his request to rest, had finally broken.

Except the electricity it brought with it meant that there was an 'unhealthy' amount of heat crackling through the air, and she still hated having so much around her. Even when she had Bill on one side, and Charlie on the other, it was too much. So giving a little grunt, Hermione gently pushed Charlie's arm off her and pausing upon hearing the soft thump as it landed back on the mattress.

It would not due for any of the two to wake up, especially if it involved her. Charlie and Bill never got enough sleep as it was, and if she was to force them from their restful sleep…. Well, they would start worrying again and Hermione didn't want to let either of them go down that road again. The last time had been enough of a problem, especially as it had meant that the entire group had nearly been forced to leave the house and journey back to Hogwarts.

Hermione shuddered. That place still held too many memories. It would have to be a dire situation for her to allow herself to be stuck in the castle again, and when moving back had actually been an option, she had been one of the loudest protesting against it even being considered. Bill and Charlie, who had been acting at the time, and still were, the leaders of the group, were the ones trying to push for all to agree to go back to Hogwarts. It had only been by Fred and George who had managed to swing the vote, that in the end, it had been decided for the Weasley Group to remain at the home.

And she had thanked them for days afterwards. She couldn't handle Hogwarts, not anymore. And even though Bill and Charlie had known that, during that stage of their lives, neither of them had thought that they would be able to look after the group and keep them safe. There just seemed to be too much danger sneaking around them.

But Hermione knew that the only reason Bill and Charlie had been trying to convince the rest of the group to return to Hogwarts was because they did love her. They wanted to do what was best for her, and at that time, they had thought that she being surrounded by the ones she loved, and close to her old friends, would give her the support she needed. Yes, those two loved her, just as much as the rest of the group did.

With a small smile, Hermione bent down, giving Charlie's cheek a kiss before doing the same with Bill. The days were full of moments when they expressed their love for each other, whether it was pecks on the cheeks, hugs or gentle rubs against the skin. But still, Hermione felt as though there were not enough of these tender times, and even when she was disobeying their direct orders, she couldn't stop herself from showing it again, even if they would probably never even know of it.

Though Bill might be able to smell it.

Carefully Hermione crept off the bed, opting for crawling over the footboard in order to not disturb Charlie or Bill any further. Softly resting her feet on the ground, as there were several creaky floorboards in this room. In fact, she sometimes thought that on purpose certain spells had been placed on the floors in order to make sure that it would be difficult for her to leave the bed without alerting someone that she was doing so. They were extremely possessive over her, and got narky when she refused to simply lie in the bed, even if she wasn't sleep.

It was only upon Hermione reaching the small wooden cupboard by the side of the door did she stand still, reaching in through the folds of the cloth that covered the entrance to pull out a moth-eaten black jumper, complete with a hood. It was one of her old, favourite Muggle items that had been given her by… She still kept it, even though most of the others had been stored away in a small backroom in Hogwarts, and with the rest, the group used during any opportunity to be nestled up against her body.

But this old jumper was perfect, and would be all she would need. It would keep her upper body warm, and the loose flannel pants she used for nightclothes would be enough to warm the rest of her. Oh, and socks. Even if she would be sticking to just the kitchen, the place she usually curled herself up in when she was awake during the night, which would still be warm even though the fire had probably dwindled to mere embers, her feet would still need to be kept warm.

Grabbing the first rolled up pair she could find, Hermione gave a little sigh before stepping into the landing, only to pause. There was no point on her continuing if she wanted to get away with this. She had to listen for each continued sound of breath to come from the five rooms around the stairs. She needed to hear the various soft breaths from every single one of her friends.

In the beginning, they used to joke that they were her Comforts. She couldn't remember exactly who had used that word to describe themselves first, but somehow the name had stuck. And now that was what they called themselves.

But at the moment, she didn't want any of her Comforts to be awake. They needed their sleep. More than she did. She could survive on a few hours sleep, that was all she could depend on these days. They could not.

As Hermione noted that each and every single one of them was giving her even breathing, she began her traipse down the stairs. She made sure to avoid the three broken steps, all of them on the To Do List of one of the group and were always meant to be fixed by last week, before crossing onto the open planned ground floor. Even with the lights off, and her not being able to turn them on since it would alert them to her being awake, Hermione knew exactly where her feet would bring her. The small flashes of lightening that occurred every few minutes only caused her eyes to squint, and Hermione ended up simply keeping them closed. It didn't matter anyway, as she knew when she passed the pillar that was the only divide in the entire ground floor and it was only upon her stepping into what was officially known as the kitchen, Hermione's brown eyes searched out for the small cupboard she knew would hold those 'oh so precious' bags of tea.

Except there was a clap of thunder, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from shivering. Sometimes, she truly wished that she had taken Bill's offer on having the entire house encased with a Silencing Charm. But the first time he had brought it up, only a few weeks into the group moving in, Hermione had refused. She didn't want special treatment just because she was going through a bit of a rough patch, and had told him so. Bill had simply looked back, his left eye still closed over even though the attack by the bloody Werewolf had happened over a year before, but had still managed to portray a look of sorrow. Bill, even though he was going through a trying time as his body and mind was still learning to co-exist with the Wolf side, believed that she was worse off than him.

Bill still continued to ask her to allow him to give her that added small 'help' to her peace of mind, but Hermione wouldn't hear of it. She didn't want special treatment. She didn't want to have the deomens inside of her quelled just so she could sleep at night. But Bill wouldn't have any of it.

He wouldn't give up either, and kept giving her chances to not have to endure the sound of cracks, the sounds that would remind her of the snaps of whips as the… And it would have meant that she would not feel as if each flash of lightening was a memory of those Curses being fired, with no chance of them being avoided. Of seeing…

Hermione shook her head.

No. Tea. She had come down here for the tea. Not for the memories.

She furiously made her hands search through the cupboards, starting with the one closest to the back door. Anything to keep her mind off what it so desperately wanted to investigate; to explore. But just as she had finally managed to figure out what shelf the tea bag had been put on this time. The lot liked to move it to her, in order to try and keep her from staying awake-

'Can't sleep?' a soft voice said over her shoulder.

Her right hand stretched out in front of her, having a death grip of her wand in the direction of the voice, only for her arm to slightly falter when she saw who it was. Even in this dim light, Hermione could see the tired face of Fred Weasley, his soft lop-sided smile grinning at her as his blue eyes blinked furiously in order to try and clear out the sleepy dust. Damn, she must have made woken him up, even though his room was the farthest from the top of the stairs. Damn. Damn. Damn.

And it was then that she realised that there was a wand in her hand. She didn't quite remember grabbing it when she had left the bed. But she must have, instinctively. The entire group had become used to keeping their wands by their side, always. In most cases, during the times when they slept, the wand would be kept to one side of the bed, and the second one sharing the bed would take the other. This was in order for both of them to have the best access to the bed-sits where their wands lay. She, as the third in the bed, had had hers on the right hand side do the fact that Charlie had been the first one in.

Though of course, for most of the group, they used their little extra Powers in order to make sure that their wand was always near by. The ones who didn't were because they believed that it shouldn't be used unless it was in response to a dire situation. The definition of what counted as a dire situation was another matter.

And this must have been one of the few times that she hadn't thought about it, but had simply Summoned it to her when she was leaving and had placed it on the elastic of her pants' without realising.

'Easy there, Mione,' said Fred.

He took a few steps into the kitchen.

'You need some tea?' said Fred, as he moved past her. 'Sit down while I make you a cup.'

'I-' said Hermione.

'Sit down, Mione,' said Fred, as he glanced over his shoulder. The stare as always made her give up any chance of trying to argue his point. Either of his points. Fred was ordering her to accept the cup of tea he was going to make for her, and for her to remain still. So that he could keep an eye on her, undoubtedly. 'Put your socks on so that you don't start shivering.'

And then there was another flash. Hermione leaned to her left, only to nearly crash into the bench surrounding the large kitchen table in this section of the house. She was lucky, her hand stopped her from tripping, and gave her a chance to simply slide onto the bench. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Fred had moved away from the kettle but had stopped himself from outright marching over to her and spooning her body into his.

It was rare a moment when one of them didn't know how to react. For most instances, one of them would immediately swoop in, gather her in their arms and murmur sweet words into her ears. And hold her until her shivering ended and they knew that she had calmed down. But this was one of the few times when it was a flip of the coin on how she would react. Usually, her response was clear-cut, but when it involved sudden movement such as flashes of light, or sharp noises, it was a completely different matter. Those reminded her only of her most dangerous memories, and ones where she would either welcome the comfort they could give her, or else lash out and refuse to be touched for hours on end.

But for this one, Hermione took another option. She gently let her body relax again, as she made her mind only think of how she couldn't argue with Fred's statement about her socks. There was a reason why she had grabbed them in the first place, and even though the kitchen was warm, it would not take much for her feet to grow cold. And then that coldness would creep up her body, and she would shiver. Shiver uncontrollably.

And even warm arms encased around her body wouldn't stop it.

So she gently pulled the sock over her left foot, the one that gave her the most problems. That was why she wriggled it up, Hermione was careful to not let the cloth touch her skin. For the part of her skin covering her foot bore a scar that began at her big toe, only to spiral to her calf before creeping down around her ankle and then up again up her leg like a snake. It ended only just below her knee. It was her problem foot because it gave her slight touches of pain ever now and then, especially during the bad weather.

Like now. Like the night she received it, when Uncle Arthur and Aunt Molly were-

'Come into the sitting room,' said Fred.

He gently pressed his fingers into her shoulders, as she gently put the other sock on her right. Before she could even protest, Hermione found herself being lead into the sitting room and gently pushed into the closest couch to the fire. The one Charlie usually occupied. With a snap from Fred's fingers, the fireplace sparked to life and two cups of tea hovered by his side.

'Here's your tea, Mione,' he said, handing one of the cups to her.

Hermione felt comfort by the heat the cup emitted, glad that it was only her hands that were heated this time. If her entire body became hot again, she was going to have to move somewhere cool again. She would have to. And at the moment, any of the window seats each one of the bedrooms possessed was looking promising, though it was doubtful that Fred would allow her to.

'Up already, Mione?' another voice asked from the stairs.

This time Hermione didn't need to turn around. She knew who it was. Her mind had calmed down enough simply by the small matter of her trying to think of a cold place to curl up in, and so she immediately recognised who the voice belonged to. But it also meant that since it was only her body heat she was muddling over, she should have been able to sense him coming down the stairs.

Damn. This was just proof of how much damage she had suffered after… She was slowly losing the instinct that had kept her alive when she was younger. Slowly, but surely. Except it made her wonder, did she want to?

'It's only four in the morning, Mione,' said the voice. 'Usually you manage to stay asleep longer than this.'

'I am fine,' Hermione muttered, as she took her first sip of the soothing herbal tea.

Though she knew that it was a complete lie; she didn't even need to wonder if she was saying the truth. As did he. And Fred. They knew, just as well as she did, that it was not a good situation when she was up at this time. It meant that there was trouble.

'Why didn't you wake me or Charlie up, Mione?' said the voice. 'You know that we don't like it when you wander around.'

'I was only slightly hot, Bill,' said Hermione.

She could feel him as he crept around her, staring at her bowed head before taking a seat on the one couch not occupied by either Hermione or Fred. And even that small movement was enough to make her lips give a little twist. She knew, without raising her eyes to stare at him, that Bill would have that unfortunate twinkle in his eyes.

'And a Cooling Charm?' he said.

Through the small tentacles of her hair, Hermione could see that Bill had crossed his arms across his chest as a small tug of war occurred on his lips. Sometimes Bill used humour to try and react to a situation, just as Fred and George had always displayed when they had been children. But it was this sense that had managed to bring her up from the darkness on numerous occasions, and when Hermione was half a second from letting a giggle escape her, there was only one way she could hide it. And that was by giving a little sniff.

But even his slight touch of humour could not hide Bill's trace of anger of her daring to leave the room. There was a reason why they were so close to her. Why they allowed her to reside in at least one of their beds every night. It was to try and give her the chance of chasing away the deomens that tormented her. It was one of the ways they used to make her remember that there were still ones out there to live for.

And that was why Bill did not appreciate when Hermione disobeyed their orders.

'Just drink your tea,' said a voice from behind her.

And a second later, someone had nearly pushed her off the couch. As she fought to regain her balance, Hermione could sense someone jump on the couch before wrapping their arms around her waist. A moment later, she was pulled back and onto their lap.

Only one would react in that way. This one was more physical with her, and when there was such anxiety in the air, took this approach. And that was only George.

'Trying to give me a bloody heart attack,' Hermione muttered under her breath.

'Never would dare to,' George whispered into her ear, before placing a kiss on her cheek.

And that caused Hermione to giggle. She could never stop herself when he gave her a kiss, even if it was on her cheek. George's touches always did that to her. They weren't sexual, but somehow, his touches always seemed to be on an area of her body that suddenly became ticklish.

'George,' said Bill, 'stop distracting Mione. We want her to go back to sleep, not get her hyperactive.'

'You'll be a good girl and go to sleep when we ask you, won't you, babe?' George said, his arm rising slightly so that he could gently trace swirls on her tummy.

Hermione gave a little snort.

'I'm not sleepy,' she muttered.

George gave her another kiss. Hermione giggled again.

'George,' said Bill, 'let someone else cuddle Mione. You are only making her excitable.'

Hermione gave another little sniff. Excitable. This wasn't her being excitable, and he knew that. Excitable was when no one watched Bill close enough and he managed to sneak in drinking over three cups of coffee. And then all of a sudden, he was so full of energy that he could talk a mile a minute and no sense could be made of anything he said.

And Bill had only started drinking coffee upon becoming one of her Comforts. He had never needed it before. When he was doing his job as a 'Relic Hunter', Bill had had enough adrenaline to not need any help. Or when he was out on a Mission during the War. But upon Bill tying himself down by simply looking after her, Bill needed that burst of caffeine in order to keep himself alert during the strange hours she now kept.

Hermione could only blame herself for the bags under his eyes and his dependency on coffee.

And the nervous twitch of Charlie's left arm. He would never regain full control of that arm again. It always gave him slight trouble, and always would.

And in the case of-

'We should have some hot chocolate left,' said George, 'unless someone had the last of it yesterday like I suspect.'

Even without being able to look at it, Hermione knew where to follow his gaze. And it also helped that Fred was looking slightly uncomfortable. Though it wasn't as if Hermione blamed Fred for taking the last cup of hot chocolate, if he had. It wasn't as if she would need it. She wasn't feeling that bad tonight. She didn't need the hot chocolate tonight, for once, to forget that she had lost her two best…

'It's still there, George,' said Fred.

Ah. Only trouble could come of this. Fred was getting testy. And when Fred was like this, then-

'Easy,' said Bill, 'the two of you.'

'I got an extra four bars when I went out to the shop yesterday,' said a new voice.

And then all the tension in her shoulders vanished. She could relax. All was well. Charlie was always able to dissipate any anger, even flares up on the subject of chocolate that was considered dear as it was used so regularly to help Hermione when she was having one of her 'bad patches'.

Even Bill's snappiness over the chocolate and the fact of Hermione being up could be dealt with.

Before he had become one of her Comforters, Hermione had always believed that nothing could truly annoy Bill. She had never seemed him rattled, even after the entire incident with the one and only time she had ever gone to the Quidditch World Cup. He had still seemed to have a bit of his old self in him when they had returned to the tent to get some sleep before returning to The B…to the Weasley's old home.

But that had all changed upon Bill taking over her care. Even when Bill was still learning how to balance his old personality and the Wolf, he had still seemed pretty even-tempered. Maybe it was simply because she hadn't really gotten close to him, preferring the company of Fred, George and Lee to any of the older Weasleys. But this presumption of hers had changed upon Bill insisting that Hermione be moved out of Hogwarts and reside in this small house he had discovered in the highlands of Scotland. It was practically lost in the highlands. But that was how it was perfect. None of them would ever be found here.

And Hermione had found out all of this when Bill had become one of her Comforters. Because all of a sudden, Hermione was someone he was fighting for. And he would use his temper to defend her.

'Mind melting a bit for Mione?' said George.

His words caused wind to whistle past her ear, and Hermione shivered.

'Don't need any,' Hermione managed to hiss out.

She had to stop letting George speak next to her ear. It kept distracting her. It was going to distract her into allowing herself to be brought back into-

'Won't take a minute,' Charlie said from over her shoulder.

She could hear the creaks of floorboards as he moved into the kitchen. The crash of saucepans as he grabbed one from the lower cupboards, followed by the thud of its doors being shut. The soft hiss as the gas was lit in the Muggle stove and the soft clink as the saucepan was placed upon it. And then a hiss as butter was dropped inside the pan. And the crackle of something being torn; a snap as the chocolate squares were broken up and then the clink as each one of the squares were placed alongside the butter.

'Still don't need any,' Hermione muttered.

'Yes you do,' said Bill.

He was giving her a pointed look that before had only been reserved for his own siblings. Ones that he still only used on his siblings, but now she was considered one of his siblings. She had been adopted into the family. By Bill, who had managed to grab the necessary paperwork for the adoption before the Ministry had been destroyed to the last brick by Death Eaters. She was now considered as Hermione Elizabeth Mary Granger-Weasley.

'And stop grumbling, Mione,' Bill said. 'You are drinking this chocolate whether you want to or not.'

Hermione felt her nose twitch. She had a hundred reasons for why she shouldn't have the hot chocolate, the main one being that the rest of the group, most of who were already down here, needed it more than her, but she had a feeling that she wouldn't win this argument. It wasn't as if Charlie would back her up, as he had always felt that the reason all the bars of chocolate were in the house in the first place were for them to be used on her. And Fred and George would just push the cup into her hand, with George guiding her hand to make her drink it.

'Mione,' said George, 'don't give our big brother trouble.'

She gave a snort.

This was nothing. If they thought this was her giving others trouble, then they should see what she was like when she was in a temper when she was younger. When she would let her anger lash against Ro-

'Mione,' said Charlie, 'enough. Or I am moving you.'

Giving a little wiggle, Hermione felt George give her a little squeeze before nudging her head underneath his chin.

'Don't want you to be moved now, do you?' said George. 'Who else will give you a comfortable lap to snuggle in?'

Hermione gave a little sniff.

'Come on,' said George. 'Who else will give you a comfortable lap to snuggle in?'

A giggle escaped from her lips.

'Ah,' said George, 'I thought so.'

'George,' said Bill, 'don't annoy Mione. We need her to go back to sleep before daybreak.'

'That might be hard,' said George, 'it is four in the morning.'

'Daylight is three hours away,' said Fred. 'You'll be hard to get her asleep before then.'

'She can have a nap later,' said Bill.

'You said I needed to get into a routine,' Hermione muttered.

'You have been following this routine for two years, now,' said Charlie. 'You can have a little break. You deserve a little break. And this is going to be one of the times when we break routine.'

'I don't need a break,' said Hermione.

'Yes, you do,' said Charlie. 'You will be drinking all of this chocolate, return to bed with one of us and remain in bed until ten.'

'Ten!' said Hermione. 'I can't remain in bed until ten, not even pretending.'

'You will remain in bed,' said Charlie, 'until we decide to let you up.'

Hermione allowed herself a few moments of cursing, careful to make sure that each of the words were under her breath in order to stop any of the rest of the group from hearing her. Unfortunately, Bill with his increased sensitive hearing, was able to pick up each and every single one of those words, but he only glared at her. He obviously did not want to bring up what words she had been speaking.

'I swear he's getting better at it with each and every time he's making it,' muttered Fred, lifting his nose to smell the aroma of chocolate.

'Don't be greedy,' said George. 'You had some yesterday.'

'Only a cup,' said Fred.

'That was a big cup,' said George.

'Don't start that all over again,' said Charlie. 'There is more than enough for all of us.'

The sound of a cupboard being opened, followed by the clinking of mugs being placed on the counter.

'It is supposed to be there for Mione,' said George.

'It's not exclusively mine!' said Hermione.

'Enough,' cut in Charlie, 'no more talk about the coco. All of us are having a cup and that is the end of it.'

Hermione could feel George sigh heavily, as Fred glared at him. George shifted from beneath her, a sure sign that he was glaring right back at Fred.

Sometimes, she wished she wasn't so close to them to see the cracks in the relationship between Fred and George. To know that though they were close, the War had nearly torn them apart and caused major rifts between them. Their easy-going nature was destroyed, and though they managed to keep the smiles between them, and work together in order to maintain small pranks to keep laughter in the house, the rest of the group could see the two slowly moving apart.

They weren't the twins Hermione knew when she was younger.

'She's drinking all of it,' said Charlie suddenly from behind her, 'and don't let her put it down.'

The passing of something and suddenly George's hand was gripping her fingers enclosed around the tea mug. With a little tug, the cup of tea was out of her hands as George leaned foreword, forcing her body to do the same and placed on the table before them.

'I was drinking that!' said Hermione.

Trying to keep her body in reach of the table, Hermione made a grab for the teacup.

'You can finish that another time,' said George. 'For now, you are having chocolate.'

'Too sweet,' said Hermione. 'I want my tea.'

'Do you want to go to bed now?' cut in Charlie as he strode in front of her, handing George and Bill their own cups. 'Or after you finish your hot chocolate?'

Hermione gave a little sniff.

'I thought so,' said Charlie, turning back into the kitchen.

'Why can't I just be allowed to stay up after I wake up,' Hermione whispered to herself.

'Because if you did,' said George into her ear, enclosing her fingers around the mug of hot chocolate, 'then you would only get about three hours of sleep every night.'

'I can live on three hours of sleep,' Hermione muttered.

'No you can't,' said George, giving her cheek another kiss.

'Yes I can,' said Hermione.

'That's it,' said George, 'you are with us tonight.'

Hermione squirmed.

'You need your sleep,' she said.

'As do you,' said George.

'What are you two whispering about?' said Charlie as he sat on the arm of the couch occupied by Bill.

'Mione is going to be with us for the nap,' said George, gently stroking a lock of hair away from Hermione's face.

Bill raised an eyebrow.

'Is she now?' he said.

George gave a little gasp.

Even now, every now and then Bill would scare them. Though Bill had grown to learn how to control his Wolf side, his temper sometimes broke through. And when it did, it was difficult for them to calm him down. They had no Remus Lupin to talk Bill back into sense.

Since making this house their home, Bill had taken up going on long walks when ever the dark side of the Wolf became to apparent. To try and burn up the anger inside of him.

'Bill,' said Charlie softly, 'if George wishes to be the one who keeps an eye on Mione for the nap, then he can. We take in turns looking after Mione at night.'

'I need her with me tonight,' said Bill.

As George's hands gripped her tighter, Hermione glanced over at Bill. His eyes had turned gold, a sure sign that Bill's Wolf was taking over.

'Bill,' said Charlie. 'I think you need to take a walk.'

'I need her with me tonight,' said Bill, his orbs burning as they turned on Charlie. 'I need the only female of the Pack with me.'

'Bill,' said Charlie, 'she's Taken. You have to remember that.'

Bill gave a low chuckle.

'I know that,' said Bill. 'I just need her curled up with me.'

Remus Lupin had never fully explained the rules Wolves went by. She had been away for most of the time Bill was learning about how Wolves lived, and by the time she had returned, Remus only had six more months to…

But she did understand about this need for a Wolf to be around their Pack. It wasn't necessarily sexual, but just like the wolves in the wild, a Pack was formed and maintained by deep connections between the members. This was shared in a Wolf Pack. It was quite common for the Wolf and one or more of the group to cuddle up against each other during sleep. It meant nothing more than the sharing of the bond between Wolf and the Pack.

It was one of the few points about being a Wolf that Bill had explained. There was so much that he had not.

'It's all right, George,' said Hermione. 'If he needs me, he needs me.'

George gave a little sigh.

'I know,' he said. 'It's why he climbed into Charlie's bed last night.'

'But I thought he…' said Hermione.

'His eyes have been glowing all day,' said George. 'You probably didn't notice because you were so tired.'

'I wasn't tired,' growled Hermione.

'Drink your chocolate,' said George, bringing the mug to her lips.

Hermione took a sip.


	2. Chapter 2

'Not yet, Mione,' said Bill, gazing down at her from between the arc in his room and the lump that had been, at one point, his fluffy pillow.

Hermione gave a little groan.

If she hadn't had a slight respect for Bill, he would, with a simple flick of her hand, be thrown across the room and into the wooden wall. It had taken Bill many months before he had earned that respect, for her to not misunderstand almost every sentence that he uttered and resulted in her losing her temper. Bill had only just managed to beat the amount of time it had taken Fred and George to become close to her, after she had returned, alone, to Hogwarts.

'And stop making so much noise,' said Bill. 'You are only in bed, not in front of the television.'

This time she gave a snort.

That was one of the activities Bill and the rest of the band of brothers forced her to do. To set the television to the left of the fireplace and watch various movies and selective channels, ones that did not show the news (as the rules of the Wizarding World applied for the Muggle one as well). The movies were treats, ones that were carefully selected by the boys when they dared to leave the house and journey through the Muggle World. To be bought with the precious money we had, the movies needed to only result in happy feelings, such as the children's ones she used to watch when she was younger, or to be an old time favourite of any of theirs. And at least once a week, the entire group would gather in front of the television, usually with one of them keeping a firm hand on her to keep her on their lap, and a movie was played in front of their eyes. It was family time, and though it was rare when any of them would leave the house, those few hours were ones of the most special points of the week.

'Is Mione up for some full breakfast?' spoke a voice from the door, 'or should we stick to porridge for today?'

Hermione glared at Lee, who simply gave her a wink in return.

The lot of them always talked about her as if she wasn't there, especially when it came to food. They each had an idea of exactly what she should eat and when she should eat it. All decisions of her meals were up to them, especially Bill. It didn't matter how many times she protested against it, none of her words were given any notice and they still continued to decide everything. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't continue to bring up her anger about it.

'I think probably half would be best,' said Bill.

Giving a little wiggle, and even though she knew it was futile, as there were two sets of eyes watching her, Hermione made an attempt to slip out of bed. Carefully Hermione shifted the sheets over so that at least Bill would feel as though something was there and slid her body slowly down the bed. Bill stopped her from trying to escape backwards and Lee would notice too quickly if she tried to move immediately towards the door. If she managed to make any sound, or if any of her movements caught their eye, an arm would grab her around her waist, whether it be because Lee alerted Bill, or Bill realised exactly what she was up to.

And what she was up to was to simply get a proper breakfast, if she managed to elude any of the others wandering around the house and if Bill and Lee didn't have their attention wavered from their conversation and see that there was an empty space next to Bill.

'Did someone remember to pick up milk?' said Bill.

'George managed to sneak into a Muggle shop last Thursday,' said Lee.

'Which one did he go to?' said Bill. 'The Death Eaters aren't watching the one three towns over.'

'That one,' said Lee. 'Barely missed being seen by McGonegall.'

Hermione felt her body shiver.

If any of the ones who remained in the castle found them again, the first words out of their mouths would be to try and convince the group to return. To return to Hogwarts meant having to remember…

'Mione,' whispered Bill's voice into her ear, 'I need you to remain in bed.'

Hermione gulped.

'I can handle hearing those names,' Hermione said.

Bill's arm crept around her waist, pulling her back up against her chest as his other hand dragged the covers around her again.

'But I can not watch you _handle _it,' said Bill.

Those words haunted her. They made her shiver. Ever since Bill had first whispered those words, they haunted her.

She could still remember the first time Bill had mentioned those words; still feel the sobs rack through her body as he held her against his chest. Somehow she had known his touch was gentle, that her body would perfectly curl into his. Never before had she ever reached out to him to comfort her, but at that moment, she knew.

And from then on, Bill had kept her by his side, refusing to listen to her protests that he had better things to do than look after her. He had been the one to arrange for her to be moved to his own room, his small apartment the furthest away from Madame Pomphrey and her Hospital Wing in Hogwarts, and to have a few quiet words with the rest of his family and their friends. It had been he who had approached her one night, asking for her permission to have them all housed in his apartment.

He always made sure to include her in all decisions, on any matters that would fringe on her sense of personal space. And that was how he managed to argue against any of her points of why she had the right to choose what time she went to bed, as he insisted that her bed times had nothing to do with personal space. Forget the entire issue of how she was never allowed to go to bed alone.

There was always at least one of them with her. To help her.

Hermione gave a shudder.

'Not much longer,' said Bill. 'I just need you to stay a bit longer.'

And a small kiss on the top of her head.

She tried to fight it, but involuntarily Hermione felt her body crumple. She never could keep up a defence when he showed such signs of affection. None of the rest ever received the same kind of reaction. They could make her calm down, but only Bill's show could break her down to her inner self. And he was the only one who could build her up again.

'Humour an old Wolf, Mione,' said Bill into her ear.

Her body did what had become natural, she melded her body into his. She felt her body become one with his as he covered her, and the covers gently lay over them.

'Hardly old,' said Hermione as she felt strands of his hair cover her cheek.

When Bill was on the move, he insisted on his long hair being tied up with his leather string. For it to be off his face. But upon him crawling into bed, Bill would throw the leather string to the side, and allow his hair to hang loose. Only he could tell the difference, as even when Bill was in bed, it didn't mean he didn't shift. That he didn't twist and turn, ending up on the other side of the bed when he was still awake. For her, she would have thought that he would have kept his hair up, but Bill had a different definition than her.

'Quiet you,' said Bill. 'I will not be sweet talked into giving you extras.'

Hermione gave a snort.

No matter how hard she tried to not end up like one of those girls, Hermione sometimes wondered about the ones who could get away with almost anything. Those girls that had their entire group wrapped around their fingers. Hermione had always sworn that she would never end up like one of those girls. Never use her charms to end up getting what she wanted.

But she also knew that she would never be able to do that to her boys. To her Comforts. And not only because she would never be able to forgive herself for doing it, but also because they would never allow it. They allowed her to get away with quite a few things, but being used was not one of them.

'What are those other extras?' said Lee, 'and can I have them transferred to me.'

Tilting her head up and feeling Bill pull the locks of his hair over her face away, Hermione saw Lee grinning back at her, head up against the right side of the doorframe. And as he caught her eye, Lee gave her a wink. She should have known. The act was all for her.

The other sore point was that. Bill and Charlie allocated certain foods to each one of the group, regulating the amount of food that was given to each every meal. Not because any of them were inclined to eat more than their share, all of them had lost their appetites over the years and it was now more usual for the rest of the group to have to bargain each other into eating. No, the division of food supplies were more to make sure that each of them ate the nutrients they needed and to eat as close as possible to the carbohydrates a male or female were supposed to intake.

'No,' said Bill, 'those are being saved.'

Oh Merlin, don't tell her that he was going to try it again. After the last time-

'Not for me,' cut in Hermione. 'I don't need them.'

A pause, before Bill's grip on her grew tighter.

'Mione,' he said, 'don't argue.'

And with that, it was over. Bill had that tone in his voice. No one argued when Bill had that tone.

She had been hoping that with her being with him since four in the morning, that it would have calmed the Wolf. Usually the simple matter of having one of the Pack with him meant that the Wolf felt as if it was being surrounded with ones who were there simply for it, and no one else. The Wolf needed to be reminded that the Pack was there for it.

Glancing up, Lee caught her eye again and they exchanged a look. A different look than the last one.

She wasn't going to be leaving Bill's side today. The Wolf had decided that she was to be the one around him, and no one else would do.

Though the entire Pack knew that the Wolf was particular to her in the first place. It had begun upon Bill first seeing her in the Hospital Wing of that Place, curled up among layers of blankets as she refused to open her mouth to accept a potion from Madame Pomphrey. It had been Bill who had chased the medi-witch away, along with the various other Healers at the time housed in the castle. They were probably still working there.

It had been Bill who had sat down next to her, wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.

And he had been the first one to be able to get her to eat, without forcing the food down her throat. Bill had been the first one to get her to take the potions prescribed by the Healers. The first one to help her sleep for a few hours before she would be woken up by her own dreams. By her own nightmares.

And for some reason, the Wolf had immediately latched on to her and had made her one of his Pack.

Bill had refused to leave her side since. And if he did, then he fought against the order until someone he trusted was put in his place to look after her.

'I'll go get the breakfast now,' said Lee, disappearing out into the corridor as the bedroom door closed behind him.

Hermione gave a little shiver.

It had been a rough night. Bill had refused to let her go after she returned to bed about quarter to five. He had wrapped her body into his, pulled the covers over both of them and had gently traced circles on her exposed shoulder until she fell asleep. No one else had joined them.

While she had been fighting against the urge to go back to sleep, Hermione had heard the rest of her Comforts go to bed. She knew that Charlie had disappeared with Oliver into Oliver's bedroom. The door always became caught on the piles of boxes Oliver had littered around his room and was usually the reason why the door was never closed. She had heard the thump as the door had bashed into one of those piles. And Lee had dragged his old quilt into Fred and George's bedroom; she could hear the sound of the heavy cloth being pulled over the floorboards in the corridor before it became caught in something in the twin's room. She didn't know what, as none of the three had said what it was when Lee had complained about the quilt nearly being torn. But she had heard them, and it had only been by Hermione grabbing Bill's arm that had stopped him from storming out of the room to yell at Fred, George and Lee for making a ruckus.

Hermione was going to have to warn the three properly before Bill managed to round them together.

'Mione?' Bill whispered.

The pressure of his hand on her arm lessened.

'You didn't hurt me, Bill,' Hermione said, turning her head so that she could give him a kiss on the cheek.

Bill would never hurt her. But sometimes, he lost control of the Wolf and the Wolf dealt with its Pack members as it would with another Wolf. It forgot that none of the other Pack members had the physicality to handle a Wolf's strength. Over the months, of course, they all had managed to increase their endurance of physical touch. They knew that Bill couldn't help it, and they didn't want to have to keep away from him because of it.

'But I-' said Bill.

Hermione placed another kiss on his cheek.

'You know as well as I do,' she said, 'what would happen if you did. And the wall is just as hard as it was the last time.'

She still did have her temper. And she had used it against them before. After escaping from her period of shock and disbelief, Hermione's temper had risen to new heights.

Bill had always had his magic, his ability increasing due to his work that forced him to continue on learning and acquiring. And upon he being Bitten, Bill had become stronger, even by Wolves' standards. The rest of the group had quickly become accommodating towards Bill, other than a few flares up. But not Hermione. Much to the horror of the rest of the group, Hermione had fought back.

When Bill decided, only three weeks after he had taken Hermione under his wing and into their new home, that he needed to prove that he was dominant over his siblings and the few friends who had survived the strains of war so far, Hermione had tried to keep her temper. She knew that this was the Wolf needing to prove to itself, and to the ones it considered Pack, that it was in charge. She could understand that. But she refused to be pushed beyond what she considered bearable was another matter.

And Bill had done that.

_Bill was having a bad day. Bill was fuming. He was stomping down the stairs, each step sending waves of shock through the house and making its very foundation shake._

_The first sound, the angry growl emitted from his own room ten minutes before, had made their bodies freeze, waiting for another sound, and Hermione to look up from her book, one of the few belongings that had been taken from That Hogwarts that did not belong to them, but Bill and Charlie had believed that her need for it was more than anyone else's. And it would be no help for the war, as it was a tome of Fairy Tales, Muggles and Wizarding ones. _

_She could faintly hear Fred and George shift in their chairs, the footsteps being enough to make their bodies realise that they would have to flee. And Charlie had already moved to a standing position, she could see him out of the corner of her eye, one hand resting on the arm of the sofa he had been sitting on_ _and the other raised to catch everyone's attention before he gave the signal to run outside. It was always best to get out of his way when Bill was on the rampage, and the grounds around their cottage was too vast to be found by him. _

_And with the way Charlie was staring over at her, he was ordering her to be ready too. But Hermione already knew that her body was tense, that it was ready to jump out of her chair and disappear out of the kitchen door, the book still in her hands. Bill was prone to rip anything apart, whether it be physically or due to his magic when he was in this kind of mood and Hermione didn't want that to happen to the tome. _

_Except…_

_Facing Charlie, Hermione mouthed, 'Where's Oliver and Lee?' to him. Immediately, he mouthed back, 'Both outside at the shops' and Hermione sighed ever so slightly. It was good that they were out, that meant that it was unlikely that they would face Bill, but… 'I will leave a Warning Spark at all entrances' Charlie added to Hermione's relief. Oliver and Lee wouldn't be able to miss the Warning Sparks, and would know better than to enter the cottage. They were safe. _

In a way. The four of them were still in the line of fire. If they were caught by Bill… 

_Hermione shuddered. _

_And Charlie noticed. She could feel his eyes rest on her, the action catching the attention of Fred and George who watched her out of their corner of their eyes. As much as the three were undoubtedly worried about her reaction, the threat of Bill was more immediate. _

'_Run,' Charlie hissed. _

_Grabbing the small bag by their sides, supply carriers carrying the latest supplies bought or 'borrowed' earlier that day from various towns, Fred and George scuttled out into the kitchen with George in the lead. But as George reached out a hand to grab the handle of the kitchen door, a scream followed by a crash echoed through the house. And Hermione knew that sound. That was Bill throwing something she viewed as precious. _

'_Mione,' Charlie said._

_He was throwing every single gesture he knew to tell her to cancel all wishes of remaining. He knew that she could tell exactly what was being destroyed, and what she was thinking of doing to Bill because of it. The only reason Charlie wasn't grabbing her and practically dragging her out was due to the fact that he knew nothing would move her now. All Charlie could hope for was that, maybe, just this once, Hermione would see sense and not do what she wanted._

_Unfortunately, this was another one of those times when she didn't._

_With Fred's hard whisper of her name, Hermione scampered up the steps and crashed into the room, the wooden door banging into the dresser beside it._

'_That belonged to them!'_

What had followed had been one of the most vicious fights either of them had ever experienced, with Bill, using his experience and new found physical strength, against Hermione, who had her thirst of knowledge and the subsequent practicing that took place in order for her to perfect her research. It had taken months for Charlie, Oliver, Fred, George and Lee to repair the damage, especially as Hermione had been adept at slipping out of Bill's grasp when he tried to grab her and consequently throwing him against the wall with her wand. Few walls had survived, and few knick-knacks were repairable. And Bill and her had been forced to be separated in two rooms in good enough condition to house them while they recovered and while the rest of the cottage was made habitable again.

But it had had a good result. Five weeks later, Bill had snuck into her room and had settled down beside her. Placing an arm around her, careful of the few bruises still left, Bill had whispered words, words beyond meaning. And she had known, at that point, that she had earned Bill's respect. She had earned the Wolf's respect.

'I am not trying that again,' he whispered, as he leant up against the headboard and pulling her up with him.

'Good choice,' Hermione said, giving a little wriggle to get more comfortable.

Bill relaxed his grip enough for her to, a small smile on his lips as Hermione crooked her arm across his neck, with the other over his stomach and her head resting against his chest. She took a deep breath as she could feel his heart beating. Content again.

But then he sighed.

'We need to start IT today,' Bill murmured.

Hermione's body tensed.

'No,' she whispered.

'We have no other choice,' said Bill. 'If we don't do IT now, then we loose our chance.'

'Why do we even need to bother?' said Hermione. 'We know the end result of it all. The same as it was the time before.'

'We still need to continue,' said Bill. 'If we were to stop, even just that once, the consequences would follow our worst fears.'

Hermione gave a little sigh.

'We never should have started,' she whispered.

It had been begun with a slight flicker of persistence, of taking that small chance and deciding that nothing else mattered. But the events that had unfolded upon that first time had doubled upon their second attempt, and then the third. By the time any of them had realised exactly what they were doing….

'We needed that hope,' said Bill, as he gently gave her a kiss on her hairline, 'to survive.'

'That hope,' said Hermione, 'is killing us.'

There was no answer. They all knew now exactly what they had unleashed. Now, when there was no chance of stuffing it back into its little box.

And that was why when Hermione felt Bill slowly draw her closer to him, gently pushing her into the mattress, Hermione gave no squeak of protest at being told to go back to sleep. For if she slept, then maybe her mind would not dwell on it. Maybe her thoughts would leave her alone, something they never did when she was awake, and she could give her body a bit of rest.

Yes, she needed a few extra hours. Just a few more.

With a soft grunt, Hermione could feel Bill cover her with the covers as she closed her eyes with one last flicker of her eyelashes and let her mind wander. And for once, she was allowed this. She was allowed to pleasantly dream.

_Hermione paused, giving her mind one last excuse to complain about what kind of situation she was going to find herself in by following through with this action, before striding forwards, pulling the door open and promptly nearly falling because of a large bundle of objects suspiciously in her way. Typical. Well, she wouldn't be deterred by that. It was all worth it in her point of view, because as she struggled for balance, Hermione could hear the all familiar cries of the ones she had just barged in on, and their various exclamations of disbelief. And as the seconds passed, she could finally distinguish each and every single voice of dismay. _

_Ah yes, she was back again._

'_Mione!' yelled Fred. _

_A smile tugged at her lips as she watched him scoot further down his bed before grabbing the pillow he had been sleeping on top of, the simple concept of using it for his head a complete mystery to his mind, and threw it in her general direction. An extremely poor throw as it turned out, as it missed her completely and instead of causing her to think twice of the escapade, it caused her to laugh upon it crashing into the porch usually reserved for any owl that dared to tempt Fate by landing in the room._

'_Tis too 'rly,' came the mutterings from George._

_One of the little joys of doing this, Hermione had found, was the simple pleasures it brought, and seeing George struggle to pull his covers over his head further, as if it would be any use as a barrier between himself and Hermione, was one of them. Even after all the times she had woken them up, the concept that nothing could deter Hermione from what she was doing, always seemed to never be understood within their group. And of course, what was in the way of what she needed to do, and that was usually the covers, would the first thing to go. _

_With a gleam in her eye, Hermione promptly caused the covers to wiggle out of George's grasp with the aid of her hands and land in a heap on the floor._

_They knew why she was here. And they knew that they would not be able to stay in bed since she had returned. And, if they were stupid enough to give her a new way to force them out of bed, then how could she be blamed? It was their own fault. _

'_Not supposed to give her a reason,' said the almost calm and collected voice of Bill, who glanced at Hermione through his curtain of long red hair that had long since passed his shoulder blades, and which was, as always, down since he had been sleeping._

_Hermione gave him a nod in reply._

_Bill was one of the few who was nearly impossible to wake, simply due to his simple act of somehow managing to stir from his sleep in enough of a fashion that he was almost coherent by the time Hermione came stomping back into the room. This had, of course, grown to a full-time battle of wills between Hermione and Bill, as Hermione tried to return to the room before Bill had managed to pull himself into a sitting position in his bed, and collected a mug of coffee to steam slowly on his bedside table with a little help of the Hogwarts House Elves. As of yet, Hermione had failed each and every time. And as such, Hermione had grown to respect the one male that she didn't have to scream at every morning, even though she was still attempting to catch him asleep._

'_Should have guessed,' said Charlie._

_Poking out throw his covers at her, before giving a little squirm, Hermione watched as his hand darted out from the quilt and began searching for at least one of the pair of slippers that always seemed to be displayed by the time dawn hit. Hermione had personally watched Charlie carefully collect the two and place them at the right side of his bed, the side that he was more prone to fall out of. Yet, Hermione knew by the time that she stormed back into the room to wake the males up, the pair of slippers wouldn't be there._

_If Hermione hadn't know the males of the room better, she would have sworn that one or more of them were playing a prank on poor Charlie. _

'_Thought I heard him earlier,' said Charlie, giving a soft groan as he discovered, once again, that the two slippers were not by his bed._

'_Why not warn us then?' said George, as he curled himself into a ball in order to regain enough warmth to go back to sleep, or hopefully manage to do so._

_Hermione gave a soft snort, as she knew that she had won one battle. George had truly given up hope of getting back to sleep, as he hadn't tried to recover his covers. Though, the entire idea that any of them would be able to was laughable, even if George was searching for his pillow. George's pillow always managed to get itself lost during the night, and today would be no exception._

'_Warn me,' muttered Fred, 'then I coulda been trying to enjoy me last moments of sleep.'_

'_Thought it was me dream,' said Charlie as his hand disappeared underneath his bed before he gave a soft yelp and pulled out a slipper._

_A new groan erupted from the far side of the room. The one who made the noise was lying on the bed next to Charlie's, his covers tangled up around his legs and pants he was wearing twisted around him. As usual, that one wasn't wearing a shirt._

_Hermione rolled her eyes as she met the sparkling eyes of Lee._

'_Why are you so happy about?' muttered Fred._

_With another flick of his wrist, Fred made another attempt to have his pillow return to him, only for it to lift off the ground, hover for a few seconds before promptly falling back to the floor again._

'_Mione!' Fred said._

'_What?' Hermione said._

_She was despicable sometimes, they should know that by now. If they hadn't, then exactly where had their brains been for the past couple of months?_

'_Mione,' said Bill, as he picked up the cup of coffee from his bedside table, 'take the spell off Fred's pillow so that he can have it back.'_

_Hermione tried to give Bill an innocent look, the operative word being here, 'try'. Upon seeing Fred make another attempt to recover his pillow, and failing, Hermione couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes._

'_Mione,' said Bill._

_With a heavy sigh, Hermione muttered the counter spell and the pillow flew over to Fred, only to bash him. And for a second time._

'_Mione!' said Fred, as the pillow landed on the bed._

_She knew Bill was giving her his Big Brother Look, but as it failed all those other times, it did once more._

'_Had a wonderful dream,' said the soft voice of Lee, as he shook the covers off him and slowly began to crawl to the side of the bed._

'_Another one?' said Charlie, swinging his feet onto the ground and into the one slipper he had found._

'_Hm,' said Lee._

'_What it about?' said Charlie._

_Lee turned to face Charlie, a glint in his eyes. _

'_First kiss,' Lee muttered._

_Immediately the catcalls started, causing Hermione to growl under her breath…_

'Mione?' said a soft voice.

She could feel someone shaking her, but though this dream was enough to cause tears in her eyes, it was still a memory of one of her happier days. This was before they had been forced to flee Hogwarts. Before Bill had realised the real reason why she had been so-

'Mione?' said the voice again.

The shaking was becoming more insistent. She was going to wake up if they kept this up. She couldn't have that. She needed to finish the dream.

And then cold; the feeling of ice dripping through the covers and trickling into her clothes. No. No. She was waking up.

Someone was pulling her from the covers, forcing her to sit up as they wrapped their warm body around her. But that didn't stop the coldness. That didn't let her fall back asleep.

Hermione let out a wail in protest.

'Thank Merlin,' hissed a second voice, as someone pressed something soft against her stomach. 'I thought we'd lost her completely.'

'She didn't eat before she took her nap,' said a third. 'I told you that was a bad idea.'

A growl.

They were around her, she would recognise Bill's growl anywhere. They were keeping her from her dreams.

Why?

'We know that now,' cut in Charlie. 'We won't make that mistake again.'

Why wouldn't they let her sleep? They told her that she needed to nap, and then she did. Only they woke her up, too early. Way too early.

'Where is her blanket?' said Fred.

'Up against her,' said George, before he pulled her from whoever was keeping her sitting up, and snuggled her up against him, his chin gently resting on her head.

'Keep it there,' said Charlie. 'It might help.'

The feeling of part of the cloth being slightly pulled her from her grasp, before George deftly pushed it back into her fist.

'I thought we burned that one?' said Lee.

Ah, he must have been the one. He was the only one who would dare to take so much of the blanket away from her, and the only one that George wouldn't have 'punished' for doing so.

'No, we burned Mione's,' muttered Fred. 'This was Her's.'

Hermione felt her body become rigid. That meant this was this belonged to the girl who she considered a sister. Who could have actually been her sister if she had-

'Enough,' whispered Bill.

And that would be the end of it, except they had taken her out of her dream, and reminded her of Her. They might be able to push it to the back of their mind, but as she had already been thinking of…

Why did this have to be so hard?

'Do you have the food ready?' said the soft voice of Bill.

'Since you first ordered me to get it ready,' said Lee.

She didn't need to open her eyes to know that Lee had stepped out of Bill's room to set up her meal, and undoubtedly to add a few extras to it. Not that any of the other Comforts would protest, more than once they had tried to sneak some in on her. They ignored her protests, at one point Charlie had held the chocolate up against her lips until she had opened her mouth.

'Come on Mione,' said Bill, gently drawing circles against her arm, 'we need you to wake up properly now.'

Hmph. Hermione was going to become full of life when she was ready to. Not before.

'Mione?' whispered the soft voice of George.

Any moment now George was going to creep up next to her and speak into her ear. He knew the effect of breath in her ear. He knew that it would get some kind of response. He knew that she would have to wake up a bit further in order to make that response.

And that gave her very little time before she would be subjected to it, so she needed to use the time wisely. With the slightest of snorts, Hermione snuggled herself further into Bill. She tried to forget that Bill was smiling, that he was whispering to one of her Comforts nearby or that he had increased the rhythm of the circles on her arm. That would just confuse her, and would help them wake her up faster. She truly was at a disadvantage.

'There's some extra goodies for you,' said the voice of Fred, as she felt someone gently pull a lock of her hair from the messy ponytail Charlie had put her hair in before they had insisted she take her nap. Slowly running his hand along the lock of her hair, Fred curled it around his fingers before stroking the side of her face.

'We raided our special store,' added George, as if that would encourage her to open her eyes.

Her Comforts should have learned by now that the promise of the 'goodies' wouldn't give her any resolve to follow one of their orders. The supposed temptation of 'goodies' had never done that before, and Hermione swore that they never would in her future. Nothing the Comforts could say would change that.

'And food is prepared,' said the voice of Charlie.

'Don't make us have to properly threaten you, Mione,' said Bill.

Hermione didn't have to guess that Charlie was sending Bill one of his famous looks, one that used to rival Mrs… Well, that look was capable of making milk turning sour.

'Do you wish to force us to threaten you, Mione?' said Bill.

Oohh. Nothing Bill could threaten her with was going to make her wake up. And he should know that his threats didn't work on her. The last time he had tried to threaten her, it had ended up with several burnt patches in the woods surrounding their cottage. The other Comforts had had to have the two restore the grounds at different intervals in order to make sure that some peace was kept, though that hadn't stopped both of them being on the receiving end of a talk with Charlie.

'Wait until Lee returns,' said the voice of Charlie, 'and then you may threaten her.'

'She won't open her eyes because the food has arrived, Charlie,' said Bill.

'And your threats won't work,' said Charlie.

This seemed to be getting interesting. Carefully Hermione opened one of her eyes, ever so slightly, so that she could glance at the scene before her. She didn't need to see to know that Bill had her carefully curled up against him, but the fact that he had one hand outstretched in order to sign something at Charlie was something that she hadn't noticed. What he was exchanging with Charlie was a mystery, as the two had never explained the code to the rest of the Comforts. The hand signals had been invented long before the War had started, even before the two had gone to Hogwarts. That one was solely for Bill and Charlie. The Comforts and her had their own for during the War, and afterwards when a few were trying to not disturb the rest.

'You have a better idea?' said Bill.

Maybe Bill's mood hadn't improved after spending the night with her, along with being with her during her nap. Yet he had never suffered so badly before, as usually after having her with him, Bill's wolf was placated enough to feel that there was no need to be dominant. How could this have changed? Could this be another point of the wolf that Bill had never warned the group about?

'Yes,' said Charlie, 'and it involves you taking a walk.'

Hermione could feel Bill's grip on her lessen. She slowly slipped from his grasp until she was lying on her side on the bed, causing her to take the chance to grab the covers and pull it over her. As she felt the warmth return, giving her the added ingredient she needed to feel safe enough to sleep, the voice of Charlie cut into her slowly shutting down mind.

'Go for a walk, Bill,' he said.

'I don't need one,' said Bill, straightening up as much as he could to his full height when sitting up, trying to stare down Charlie.

'You stayed up during all of Hermione's nap,' said Charlie. 'Walk it off.'

'No!' said Bill.

'Bill,' said Charlie, with the slightest of growls in his voice. Hermione knew that he dare not allow any more, as the last problem Charlie needed was for Bill to think that Charlie was challenging him. Charlie wasn't a Werewolf, he didn't have the strength to win a battle against Bill, and Charlie wasn't the sole head of the group. That position was shared between himself and Bill, and arranged long before Bill had been Bitten and had become a Werewolf.

It was pure luck that Bill's Wolf side didn't see Charlie as a threat.

'I am perfectly fine!' said Bill.

'Don't make me have to take everyone out of the house, Bill,' said Charlie. 'Mione needs her rest and she won't get a proper nap if we have to pull her from the bed.'

Charlie would hardly win with that argument. As her nap was just ending, Hermione had supposedly gained all the rest she needed, therefore it wouldn't matter that she had had to take a walk through the woods. Yet, there was still the little point that Bill wouldn't want Hermione to move until it was absolutely necessary, and if it meant that Bill would need to leave the cottage, than he would argue inside that it was better if he did.

The softest of growls from Bill. That comment had touched the Wolf side of him, and his wish to keep one of his own Pack comfortable. Hermione knew that she wasn't part of his Pack solely because she had become the lover of Ro… And then Bill had pulled himself off the bed, side-stepping across Fred and George before disappearing out of the room. Under her breath Hermione sighed, thankful that it had been Charlie who had stood up to Bill, and no one else. Only Charlie could have 'convinced' Bill to try and vent out his anger outside.

'And now you can stop pretending to be asleep, Mione,' said Charlie, and out of Hermione's eyes, she could see that Charlie had settled on the edge of the bed.

'You aren't fooling anyone, Mione,' George added, as she felt herself being pulled back into his arms. George crossed his legs, settling Hermione in his lap as he stroked the side of her face, running his fingers from her hairline all the way down to under her chin.

Hermione gave a little grunt in reply. She wasn't going to prove to them that they were right, they were right enough of the time.

'Mione,' said Charlie, 'up. Barely a few hours before you were practically begging to be allowed out of the bed.'

Hermione gave her head a little shake. They should realise that that was before. Now she had accomplished sleep, and had had a nice dream. She had a reason to remain asleep, in case she was lucky enough to have another pleasant memory pass by.

A heavy sigh from George.

'Very well then, Mione,' said George, 'you give us no other choice.'

And then something was grabbing her around the middle, gripping her just underneath her ribs and holding her out, with her legs still caught in the covers. Someone else then took a hold of her, pulling her into their embrace as her legs were untangled. By the time she had opened her eyes, which had closed upon realising that she needed to pretend to be asleep again, Hermione found herself in the arms of Fred.

'Wha?' Hermione muttered.

It was just typical of them that even when she finally admitted that she needed sleep, they decided that she needed to be awake. She just couldn't win.

'No need to pretend, Mione,' said Fred, as he gently rested his chin on her shoulder. 'We do have some kind of brain working between all of us.'

'Hate you,' Hermione muttered, making an attempt to worm her way out of Fred's grip, only to realise that Fred had somehow managed to curl his fingers in a good enough position that instead of trying to escape, Hermione could only think of the last time she had been held like this. When Harr…

Hermione gave a quick shake of her head. She couldn't think like that. She couldn't. That was in the past, and it would stay in the past.

'Yes, yes,' said Fred, 'but you still have to get up.'

'And you will have to eat all of the food we put in front of you,' said George, 'like always.'


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione ever so softly let herself breathe deeply. It had been a chance, a big one, for her to dare and try and escape out of the small cottage. It hadn't even been a conscious decision. Hermione had seen her chance, all of her Comforts were involved in helping Charlie escorting Bill out in order for Bill to take a much needed walk. Charlie's voice had been enough in the beginning, Bill seemed to be hypnotised as Charlie had grabbed Bill's arms and slowly made him move down to the main entrance. Yet something in the hallway seemed to spook Bill, and just as Charlie seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, Bill had made an attempt to wriggle out of Charlie's grip. It had taken the combined help of Fred and George to convince Bill to give up the idea of bolting, and it was then that Hermione had taken her chance. She had known that Lee and Oliver would be paying too much attention to Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, to be looking upstairs where she was supposed to be remaining until someone fetched her, long before she had peeked out between the banisters. Hermione only did so in order to confirm it, before she had grabbed a light pullover from the cupboard, dragged it over herself and took the only thing she needed to feel safe, a Muggle personal alarm.

Hermione knew that this was all she needed if she was to wander around the forest. The only creature to fear was Bill, during one of his States, and she knew enough about plants to know what was safe to be near. Hermione knew that every few weeks, one of her Comforts would patrol the entire forest to make sure that no one was near by. That not a single Muggle, or witch or wizard had moved into their Territory, as Bill would term it. This was, after all, supposed to be a safe place, primarily for Hermione's sake, despite how the rest of her Comforts kept trying to delude her into thinking that they also needed the tranquility, peace and quiet. Hermione wasn't stupid, and her Comforts kept explaining to her that they knew she wasn't.

Yet somehow that escaped them whenever the subject of the reasn of why they were here. It seemed to follow along the lines of how much sleep her Comforts decided she needed, or food.

One of her cynical smiles, one that used to cause Ro…several of her friends, to promptly throw several cushions at her, especially when they were in the Gry...that Common Room where so many seemed to be in supply. It didn't matter how many times she had protested at this treatment, they would simply hit her with those pillows anyway.

Back in those days, Hermione knew…

She sighed. What had she known back in those days? Had she ever realised what cruelty she would have to endure? No, instead Hermione had always thought that no matter what happened to her, or…

She gave a quick shake of her head.

It had been years before she had been able to call them by anything even close to their names, due to her Comforts' insistance, not hers. That perfect little world Hermione had managed to create around herself had fooled everyone. They had thought she as finally recovering, that she was acting some-what normal, especially as she seemed to have taken it upon herself to become an annoying sister. To them, Hermione had dropped all boundaries, and was engaged in a friendly war with Bill over waking him up.

Just like her dream this morning had showed.

But then it had been shredded soon after, when Bill had managed to find Hermione crying her eyes out in one of the lone girl's bathrooms, the usual toliet facility inhabited by Moaning Myrtle. He hadn't believed that it was the simple fact that she had gotten into a little argument with someone else, or that there had been a little problem between her and a book. Instead, Bill had swept her up in his arms, carried her back to their private room and forbade her from leaving it. Somehow, he managed to get her to drink a Sleeping Potion, and the next thing Hermione knew, she was being told that it had been decided that they were all moving out of That Place.

Hermione hadn't had a say, the few belonging she could handle being around her were packed up and Hermione and her Comforts had moved into a small house in the Scottish highlands.

And slowly over the next two years, her Comforts had managed to persuade her to slowly adapt to the new situation. She still had the nightmares, the screams, the shakes everytime there was a flash…but her Comforts had managed to accomplish a few wins.

Her Comforts knew that too many memories of her past, ones that she needed to live with, remember and move on, were concerned with Them. And as Hermione refused to speak of Them by name, her Comforts knew that they needed to have her confront the past. So, they had taken on a different approach. They had decided to take it another way, and so instead of insisting Hermione call Them by their first names, they had made up special words associated with the two.

Hermione's best friend with the shaggy black hair, emerald eyes and a thirst to rush into advenutes without thinking, became KOC (Knight of Camelot). He always loved the medieval tales, especially the wizard Merlin, and if it was followed what the Knights of the Round Table were supposed to have done, then he was a perfect character for such a story.

And it used to always bring a small smile to her face upon hearing the latest endeaver he had somehow managed to involve himself in. An adventure that inevitably led to Hermione and their other friend ended up someohow caught up in it as well.

And Hermione's other best friend with the light red hair, sparkling blue eyes and his ability to be able to see the strategy of outmuneovering the tightest of situations, became named after the very game that first displayed the talent that made him different from all of his brothers: Chess. More than once Hermione could remember the three of them sitting in the Gry...in That Common room, spending the few hours they had before something else would become the centre of their attention, and she watching KOC and Chess battle it out, even though the three of them knew that Chess would win. He always won.

But that was all gone now.

Hermione could easily remember how many times those three had had the use of a chess game in order to either calm their minds down so that a problem could be sorted, usually something that turned out to play a big part in their yearly adventure, or to deal with the trauma of the aftermath of the adventure. And this game was only every played in That Common room, or else in the Hospital Wing…

Hermione gave her head another hurried shake.

Hermione could remember each and every time one of Them had ended up in there.

In their first year, Chess and KOC had ended up in the Hosptial Wing due to their injuries of a chess game…and something that looked like a simple red rock.

In their second year, it had been she who had, by the end of the school year, confined to a hospital bed with the medi-witch hovering over her. That had been the first time…

And in their third, all three had, with Chess suffering from a broken leg; KOC from the trauma of dealing with a We…with Remus, and she the same. Yet, KOC and herself had set out to re-live the entire night anyway.

Fourth year was simply KOC, with Chess and herself watching over him. Chess had even managed to concinvce her to play a few games of chess while they waited.

And in their fifth, it had all fallen apart. No longer were these adventures that were only hurting the three of them, threatening their lives. Now it became events that involved people they cared about. Wizards who were now her Comforts.

By their sixth year, the three had decided to take matters into their own hands, especially after they lost Sirius, and set out to look for the very items that could kill the Dark Thing.

And look how it ended up?

Instantly, her mind flashed her memories of the time the three had spent looking for those items. Of when they had been nearly cornered in that abandoned house, the Riddle House, searching for something that had been mentioned in the police reports from many years before. Who would have thought…?

And then there were those caves where they had been caught with the tide had been coming in, because some hermit had been overheard speaking of a cup that contained the soul of the very darkness and that sent anyone who looked into its bowl to madness?

All that, and yet somehow, it hadn't mattered in the end. Chess and KOC were…were not there anymore, and neither was…

That was the one person that she wouldn't even give a special name for. Hermione refused to name that one by full name, or special. To Hermione, that one would always be Her.

And nothing her Comforts could say would change her mind.

Every now and then, her Comforts would begin the entire argument all over again. That was what had set Bill off this morning. The talk Hermione had had with Bill had simply started the problems all over again, IT. Bill needed for IT to begin again.

And that was what had forced Charlie to nearly kick Bill out of the house.

And why Hermione had sneaked out. IT always did that to her.

So now she drifted through the woods, knowing full well that if any of her Comforts realised where she was, she would be dragged back to the cottage. They knew how traumitised she got each and every time IT was mentioned, and when it was time to do IT, she moved further into her shell. And, before long, they would realise that she had disappeared, once they had made sure that Bill had walked far enough away from the cottage.

That was when the search party would begin, with the rest of her Comforts hoping that Bill didn't find out.

And that was why she was taking in the few moments of peace, the tranquility that Hermione had only ever been able to find when she was in the cottage, or around it. Something about the way the shadow of leaves moved, the soft call of the various birds mixed with the distant soothing voices of her Comforts reminded Hermione…

What was that?

Among the various shades of green, a small blue object caught her attention. It wasn't any colour Hermione could ever remember one of the plants surrounding the small house being, and her mind kept flashing little warning signs at her. She should stay away from it, whatever it was. It was trouble. It would only give her pain.

Yet the curiousness that had been slowly nurtured when she was younger kept tugging at her. It might be an object that would only hurt her, but she had to know what it was. She had to know why it would hurt her.

And so with slight trepadition, Hermione carefully picked up the object, to discover…a blue photograph album. She knew what this was. She knew what was contained within it.

But who could have put it there?

Her mind instantly flickered to the image of- Could it have been Bill?

Her Comforts had made an unaminious decision all those years ago that any object that could remind her of her two best friends, of what used to be, or any of the others who had per…

No.

Hermione roughly shook her head.

No, Bill had been one of her Comforts who had insisted that all objects, all memrobelia, needed to be destroyed, or, if there was something that Hermione may be able to learn to treasure once more, left back at That Place.

No.

Bill wouldn't have changed mind.

Yet, Bill hadn't been thinking rationally before Charlie had practically shown him the door. He had been fuming the entire time Charlie had been carefully persuaded him to go for a long walk in the woods surrounding their house. And the fact that Charlie had needed help to do so, and had slammed the front door behind Bill, Hermione could hear it as she had stepped deeper into the woods, proved that.

She had headed in the direct opposite direction of where she knew Bill would stomp down. She didn't need Bill to find her. She couldn't have Bill find her, not when he was like this.

Hermione didn't feel like being man-handled back to the house.

But…Charlie wouldn't have allowed Bill to grab anything, other than his cloak. Charlie knew what Bill was capable of if he had something to help him destroy, and Charlie would have made sure to even take Bill's wand. Bill had proven exactly what he could do with his wand.

And for Bill to be able to pick up something like this, even though it would be small enough to put in his pocket, meant that he would have been able to force Charlie to move towards his hiding place. And Charlie was the closest one to strength compared to Bill. It wouldn't have been easy. And Bill wouldn't have managed to accomplish this without alerting Charlie.

No, it couldn't have been Bill. Unless he had hidden on him for the entire night, and he had then promptly hidden it in the forest so that Hermione could find it…

No.

But then who did that leave? None of the rest of the Comforts had been outside, and with the storm last night… It never would have survived the storm. And the only way it would have, was if magic had been used.

That was unlikely. No. They rarely used magic. And one of them wouldn't, even to hide a photograph book.

No, she had found it too easily.

Hermione sighed.

She could remember a time when she didn't believe in magic. Hermione had grown up with parents who were realists, they didn't believe in having her mind filled with ideas that could never come true. Oh, they had read her nursery rhymes and fairy tales, but always made sure that she knew that while there were such things as princesses and castles, there hadn't been any such adventures that had happened to them since the Dark Ages, and there certainly were never any dragons. And her parents had been quick to exchange those stories for non-fiction. And Hermione had quickly learned which one she preferred.

As the years had passed, Hermione had surrounded herself in science, literature, history and so on, and had been in the middle of preparing a history report on the Black Plague, and driving the librarian at the local library up the wall with the kinds of books she was asking to borrow, when the letter for her arrived.

And it had changed everything.

Immediately, and after she had been assured that magic was real by Albus Dumbledore himself, Hermione had delved into any books she could find. There had been very little, it was rare when an actual account of the Wizarding World managed to find itself into the Muggle World, and it was only after Hermione had to admit, after several weeks, that she wouldn't learn anything. And so, she had sent a letter back to Albus Dumbledore with the owl he had let her borrow so that she could communicate with the Wizarding World in the months leading up to her actually going to Hogwarts, asking for help.

It was only after Hermione had received a letter back from Albus Dumbledore did she realise that she was taking up his valuable time, but he seemed to have already known that, and had assured her that he was more than happy to help. Also, he acquaised her request, and that if she was to simply feed the owl a few of the treats from the bag attached to its leg, and then peruse through the catalogues the owl had also brought her. If she needed anymore, then she could send the owl out to get more from other bookstores who would be more than happy to gve her lists of books they would recommend.

And so, the rest of the summer had been spent with Hermione placing orders for books and then going through them, one by one.

It was among those history books that KOC's name had come up, time and time again.

At that time, Hermione had never thought that she would ever, actually, meet the boy who was mentioned all over the histoy of the Wizarding World during the past twenty years. And as she had delved further, history had become her favourite subject, and not just because of the small boy who had saved the world. There had also been the mention of how a small group of witches and wizards had been the ones who had managed to change the world by fighting in a war that they believed they were going to lose. Their stories had touched her.

And then along with KOC, Hermione had met Chess. Her entire life had changed, more so than when she had found out about the Wizarding World. Those two became her best friends, through what could have been the most unfortunate event probably should have torn them apart forever. But that incident involving the troll had led to a budding friendship. And as the years had passed, the friendship, with KOC's permission, between herself and Chess had become…more.

Just before the three had set out from what would turn out to be their last rest stop, to find the last two of the Horcruxes, herself and Chess had become lovers.

But too soon, way too soon, Hermione had lost them both. She had had the two, one who was her lover, the other who she considered a brother, taken away from her cruelly. Chess and KOC, after managing to survive the last few months, were…gone.

And she no longer had anyone to live for.

Hermione knew that her Comforts were trying hard as they could, to give her a reason to live. She knew that during many of the Comforts' nights were spent, while she was asleep in one of their arms, by the fireside, trying to think of someway, anyway, of being able to convince Hermione to live.

She was, after all, the last one of the younger ones, left. She was the last girl.

The only ones left were herself and her Comforts, out of all family and friends.

Then why had the photograph book been left for her to find? It had been left in the open, easy for her to discover. None of them would have let her come across this. They knew what it would do to her. It would only drive her further inwards, not help at her.

It would be full of memories.

Hermione glanced down, to see that she had unknowlingly opened the book. And before Hermione could close her eyes, to not allow herself to see anything, her attention was caught by a particular photograph.

It had been taken, one of many, by Colin Creevy, when they didn't know what kind of future they would eventually find themselves in. Colin had managed to creep up on them, as the three sat up against the largest tree around The Great Lake. Well, sitting was a loose word. It was more that Chess and KOC were leaning up against the tree, and Hermione was spooned between them, with Hermione using Chess' shoulders as a headrest.

The three had been so happy at the time. Chess had placed the latest incident involving…the Rat at the back of his mind, and was acting his usual easy-going self. KOC had even placed his worries about…Sirius, in a box that was firmly locked up, and the three were simply enjoying the late October sun, with heavy coats, thick scarves and pants on, of course.

It wasn't that warm.

But at that moment, all the three cared about was enjoying the unseasonal good weather. They had been talking about this and that, and Hermione had, in the midst of a conversation of KOC wondering what it would be like if he could travel back to the seventies and see his parents, slipped up about her time turner. The other two hadn't noticed of course, Chess had simply rolled his eyes as the two moved on to whether they thought that KOC's father was in trouble as much as KOC was.

And as the two talked, Hermione had silently berated herself, even though in the back of her mind, she was wishing she could tell them the truth. She hated keeping secrets from them.

Yet, Hermione had held her tongue, even when Chess had made another remark about Hermione taking too many classes. And then the conversation had turned again, as Chess and KOC discussed their new Defence Against the Dark Arts' professor at that time…Remus Lupin.

In 1993, Remus had been slowly making his way to gaining the weight to be healthy again. And, there had always been that twinkle in his amber eyes that had made Hermione doubt all the stories she had read in books involving Were-wolves.

He just looked happier too, teaching the students.

And that state of contentment had only ever been topped when Remus had been staying in 12 Grimnauld Place, as he had his best friend back, safe and living with him again. The small smiles the two had exchanged, the jokes Sirius had said and causing Remus to pretend to tell him off…that had been happiness.

The two had Passed On now.

But, at least, they were together again.

Hermione sighed.

There were very few left, even though the war, had been rightfully won by the Light, or at least most of it as there were still a few Inner Circle Ones running around. Yet, winning it had meant that there were few who she had been close to from the very beginning, still alive. Only Fred, George as ones she was actually close to, and Oliver and Lee as ones she was around sometimes. But she had still grown up around them.

There was no one else. The rest were dead.

And Bill and Charlie didn't count as ones she had been close to. They had always been, before, just the older brothers of the twins, Chess and Her. She had never seen them often. And she had only met them back in 1994, for the Quidditch World Cup, and other than seeing Charlie before the First Task, if it counted her coming to the barrier around the dragons' pen and had a quick chat with Charlie before he had been called back, and Bill just before the Third, Hermione had rarely seen them. Even when Hermione had been holed up in the Grimnauld Place, along with the twins, Chess and Her, her actual interaction with Bill and Charlie had been short and infrequent.

It had only been after she had returned after her loss, had Bill and Charlie really entered her lives.

Hermione shook her head.

She hadn't known anything about them until Bill had found her in the Hospital Wing, and had taken over her care.

'Mione!' called a voice.

Instinctively, Hermione felt her body become rigid as she heard the crunching of leaves as Charlie made his way towards her.

She didn't need one of her Comforts to interfere now. She may be travelling down the river of memories, hard to think of memories, but that didn't mean she wanted it to be brought to an abrupt halt.

For just as these memories brought her pain, they also reminded Hermione of the good times. The better times. They made her feel the happiness she once had.

She would never get those feelings back, no matter how hard her Comforts tried. No matter how long they tried.

There was no hope left.

Swallowing, Hermione slipped the photograph book into her cloak, and stepped back into the foilage.

'I can see you Mione,' said Charlie, as he appeared from behind one of the large trees. 'Don't even think about trying to disappear.'

Those words only caused her to pause for a moment. And then the photo inside the blue book appeared before her eyes, and she remembered.

No, she was not at her best at the moment. If any of her Comforts realised what she had seen…

Hermione shook her head slightly.

They couldn't.

'Mione,' said Charlie, 'I am not in the mood to go chasing after you. I've just spent the last two hours patrolling around the house to make sure that Bill doesn't backtrack, I am not adding having to storm after you to my day.'

Yet those words had lost their power.

Hermione didn't fear Charlie. She didn't fear the aftermath of Charlie's anger if he did have to chase after her. Even though she knew it would hurt him.

That it would prick at his belief of keeping her here.

That her Comforts could look after her, without interference of anyone else.

'Mione!' said Charlie, and for the first time, the Tone he usually reserved for Bill entered his voice. It was the one he used when Bill was trying to assert the Wolf and doing so would hurt the rest of the group. 'I am not the only one out here! Oli is the only one in the house!'

And with the sharpness of his voice, he would undoubtedly cause the rest of her Comforts to slowly circle around until they had her and Charlie completely surrounded.

Now she didn't have the choice. Now the powers to his words had returned, and Hermione knew that she would have to listen.

Especially as the Tone was in his voice.

Hermione gave a soft sigh, hoping that it was low enough that Charlie didn't hear.

'I simply wished for a few moment's alone,' Hermione said, pausing but refusing to turn around.

Hermione knew that her emotions were showing plainly in her eyes. It might soften Charlie's Tone, but it would start her Comfort's worry all over again.

She couldn't have that.

Better to not let Charlie know how much his Tone was needling at her emotions. Making it worse.

Though, it was her fault in the first place.

'You aren't allowed to be left alone,' said Charlie.

The Tone was still there, but it had lessened.

She wasn't fooling Charlie.

'I just wanted a few moment's to myself,' said Hermione.

She knew that almost a childish tone had entered her voice. She knew that she sounded like a whiny four year-old.

But it hid her ripped emotions of what the photo caused her.

'Not until you prove to us that you are better,' said Charlie.

She could feel him slowly move up to her.

'I am,' she said.

Charlie gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

'Your nap proved that you aren't,' he said.

He gave her shoulder a little squeese before moving into her personal space. And then she could feel his chest inches from her back.

She could smell his natural scent in her nostrils.

As always, he smelt of the logs he took great pleasure in splitting for their living room fireplace. He smelt safe.

He smelt like family.

Just like the rest of her Comforts.

She knew that if he wrapped his arms around her, she wouldn't be able to stop him. She wouldn't want to stop him.

'My dream wasn't hurtful,' said Hermione.

Charlie stepped closer, his arm sliding down so that he could wrap it underneath her breasts before giving her a little squeese. His other hand rested on her hip.

And burying his nose into her hair, he breathed in.

'You wouldn't wake up,' said Charlie.

'Because I was dreaming,' said Hermione.

He nuzzled just behind her ear.

Sometimes, the rest of her Comforts picked up the motions a Wolf would enact on the members of their Pack.

'I was alright,' whispered Hermione.

'We didn't know that, Mione,' said Charlie. 'All we knew was that you weren't waking up.'

Hermione gave a soft sigh.

'I was remembering,' she said.

'Remembering?'

His grasp of her became slightly harder, as he pulled her into his chest and nearly wrapped his body around hers. And Hermione let him, resting her head just underneath his chest.

'Maybe I'll tell you one day,' said Hermione.

She could feel slight tension errupt through his body, before it was released. She had obviously shaken him. That was not what Charlie was expecting.

She rarely gave them the benefit of explaining what was in her mind.

'Maybe,' said Charlie, before he used his hip to slightly push her head, 'but first we need to get sme food for our cupboards.'

'I thought we recently bought more supplies?' said Hermione.

She could have sworn that during the entire argument, the second one, between the twins had brought up the food situation. And hadn't Charlie…

'We did' said Charlie, 'but we ran out a few essentials.'

Hermione could feel her right eyebrow rise slightly.

'Those essenitals better not have anything to do with comfort food?' she muttered.

A soft, low chuckle.

'They have to do with extras,' said Charlie.

'No,' said Hermione, pushing out her feet so that Charlie couldn't nudge her any further. 'There is no need.'

Charlie gently kissed the top of her head.

'There is great need for the entire group,' he said.

'Not for me,' said Hermione.

She refused to have more food shoved down her throat because just because the group believed she needed comfort food. That was what those extras were, comfort food.

They were what used to be used as bargaining tools between fighter groups. Foods that were hard to come by for the fighters, and therefore precious.

Especially, according to the males, when dealing with women.

Hermione gulped.

But she had hardly any exerience of that, as she had been gone by the time this new negotiating tool had appeared. And by the time she had returned… By that time, her Comforts refused to let her know what lengths they went to in order to try and improve her mood.

It was only later, she did. But by then it was too late. Her Comforts knew how much the extras helped, and therefore refused to listen to any of her arguments.

Hermione couldn't do anything about it.

'You are not the only one,' said Charlie softly. 'Bill needs a little pick-me-up.'

Hermione sighed.

'You don't need me to pick out the extras,' she said.

Charlie snorted.

'We need you away from Bill,' he said, 'especially with your mood.'

'There is nothing wrong with my mood,' said Hermione.

'Don't lie,' said Charlie.

'I'm not,' said Hermione.

A pause.

'Would you rather he learn that you have had a setback and disappeared from the house for over two hours?' said Charlie, 'when he is in a mood?'

Hermione gave a little sniff.

'He will find out sooner if you don't come with us,' said Charlie. 'Despite my warning, he will venture back to the house while we are gone. Do you want to be there?'

'I'll be keeping out of his way,' said Hermione.

'He'll smell it on you, Mione,' said Charlie. 'He'll know.'

He gave her another squeese before re-arranging his weight so that he could once again move her foreward. Before she could protest, Hermione found herself walking towards a small clearing where undoubtedly Fred, George and Lee would be waiting.

The clearing always served as a meeting point if the house was out.

'This is for you best, Mione,' said Charlie. 'I know you hate it, but you need to stay away from him for a while, and that will mean coming with us.'

Hermione gave a slight shake of her head, but she didn't protest any further. He had her there, and he knew it.

'How long?' she said.

'Probably a few hours,' said Charlie. 'It will take Bill a while to cool off.'

It always did.

And Bill seemed to be getting worse, if yesterday and today were anything to go by. She hadn't noticed the changes yesterday, sometimes she was too consumed by herself, and by midmorning today, Bill had already been kicked out of the house.

That wasn't good.

'And you,' said Charlie.

He was probably trying to say that under his breath, but Hermione heard him loud and clear.

With a soft grumble, Hermione found herself breaking through waist-high bushes and into the clearing. And as she had expected, the other three were there. Fred was leaning against the lone tree that grew off to the side of the circle of bushes, with George only a few steps to the right of him, tossing a baggy, dark green hoodie from hand to hand. Or at least trying to.

He had to keep his hands pretty close to each other in order to keep the hoodie from uncrumpling and falling to the ground.

And Lee.

Hermione felt her mouth ever so slightly twitch.

Lee was falling back into the attitude he, Fred and George used to always personify. There was that damn half-smirk on his face, an annoying twinkle in his eye and the shifting of his shoulders side to side as he murmured some song to himself. He certainly was keeping his singing low, especially upon noticing Hermione.

Yet still, somehow, Hermione could almost swear that Lee was singing 'Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo.'

Actually, she was sure of it.

Hermione gave a low growl.

She knew that she should never have taught any of them that song.

She swore that it was all down to a moment of madness. That was what it had to be. Momentary madness.

She certainly couldn't have taught it to them for any other reason.

She valued her eardrums. And her sanity. And her peace of mind.

And almost certainly she had a sense of sympathy for any herself or any of her Comforts might bump into.

'There she was, just-a walking down the street,' said Lee in a louder tone.

And before Hermione could glare at him-

'Singing Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo!' added George, as the two's deep voices bounced off the trees.

It was only then that Hermione managed to give them one of her full, piercing glares, though neither seemed to be particlarly affected by it. Instead of looking bashful, or in any way apologetic for what they knew they were doing to Hermione, she received full-blown smiles.

'Clapping her hands, and shuffling her feet!' said George and Lee, deciding to actually yell out the words now instead of singing. 'Singing Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo!'

And they were even doing the accompanying gestures.

Hermione was feeling the anger in her rise.

They were doing it on purpose! She knew it!

Those bastards!

'Enough!' cut in Charlie.

He shot the two of them warning looks, ones that were sobering enough to stop them from continuing the song any further.

But it did nothing to their grins.

Or the sparks in their eyes.

'We've got a few hours before busy hour will start in town,' said Charlie, his voice gentler this time. 'So, if everyone has an idea of what they wish to purchase, as I am not making a second trip, or letting any of you try to, we can head out now.'

George and Lee just laughed.

Hermione shook her head.

She didn't want to know. She didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Within the depths of her mind, Hermione knew that Charlie had picked the best time possible for all of the to venture into the town closest to their little house. That Charlie had carefully calculated what time they would need to leave the house to be able to arrive at the town just before the rush hour of the townsfolk leaving their homes to begin shopping for the evening meal.

But it hadn't prevented her from dreading arriving as the five had walked through the highlands, as they kept within eyeshot of the small road that led into the town upon crossing it forty minutes after leaving the clearing.

Instead, the growing apprehension as they had slowly approached the town had twisted further in her gut. By the time Hermione and the other four had stepped into the outskirts of the town, the reality had been worse than she had even feared.

There were just too many people.

Too much noise. Too many people crowding around her. Too many leaving their houses at the same time.

It was just too much.

She was trying to keep her body still. She was trying to stop herself from twitching. She couldn't let her Comforts know how much this…

Hermione closed her eyes.

Today was simply a day she should never have left the house. Should never have ventured into the forest.

No.

No, she needed to find that photo album. She needed to have that back in her life.

What she couldn't handle was the overwhelming amount of people in the same day.

It would take a few days to process the album. To sort through her fear as she collected enough courage to open the cover again and even glance at the first page.

It would just take time.

And then there was George, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

He couldn't dare show any more comfort, not in public. They already caused enough of the town to gossip, particularly as the towns' people weren't even sure how many people, exactly, lived in the house far off in hills surrounding the town. They knew for certain, Hermione was quite sure, that there was only one female living in the house, enough of a scandal.

One woman living among an undetermined amount of men.

Hermione was quite sure that it caused quite a bit of tongue wagging, and despite what her Comforts told her, Hermione knew that the townspeople were watching Hermione and the group. She knew they wanted to know all of the details of the group.

All so all George could do was give her a little squeeze.

And to whisper a few words in her ear.

'We're nearly finished,' he said, before gently releasing his grip and guiding her by touch towards the next shop they needed to enter.

Hermione only allowed herself a slight falter as they walked through the shop door, before adopting the stance the entire group took to whenever they were in town. Shoulders back, a small smile twitching at their lips and a fake twinkle in their eyes.

She didn't know if it fooled the townspeople or not.

Stepping behind the three boys, Hermione kept her gaze flickering across the shop, dancing from the various goods lined neatly on the shelves, to the floor to the cash register where no one was behind. She didn't want to catch anyone's eyes, that would only lead to someone trying to involve her in a conversation.

And she knew exactly what direction that conversation would take.

And almost as if Fred, George, Lee and Charlie knew how exactly what she feared, the four made sure to draw all attention to them. Whether it was by constantly asking the only store clerk various questions about the food, or making enough noise that any of the other customers watched them, some with annoyance, others with an understanding look of young exuberance, allowing Hermione to simply fade back into the background. By the time the four had finished their purchases, Hermione wasn't noticed until Charlie was gently leading her out of the store again.

Her sigh of relief, she knew, was picked up by the four boys once they were back into the street.

That was why, instinctively, George and Lee moved to her side as Charlie took the lead with Fred a step behind him. The five weaved in and out of the crowd, Fred and Lee holding all of the packages as Hermione tried to control her breathing.

It helped that they were there with her, but they could only help her so much. The townspeople were still too close, too suffocating.

She just wanted to escape.

And then there was weight around her shoulders. George. He had his head resting on her as he pulled her to the side.

And Lee was using his weight of his body to help George. He was directing her with his shoulder to follow George.

Before she could even give a murmur of protest, Hermione was surrounded by darkness. Of the coolness of an alley.

Of the comforting sense of Fred, George, Lee and Charlie.

'Take a breather,' said Charlie, leaning against one side of the building.

Fumbling with something in his pocket, Charlie held out his other hand and caught the brown wrapped package of meats they had bought from the butcher being thrown by Fred. Pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket, Charlie threw the meat into it before letting the bag drop to the ground.

Hermione could see Fred, George and Lee give her a nod.

And for once, Hermione didn't argue. She needed the small break, even though they were nearly finished their shopping. Another couple of visits to shops and they would be done. Soon enough, they would be back in the comforting feeling of the sloping hills.

Lee sighed.

'Maybe we should re-think this,' he said softly.

Hermione could feel her eyes slightly widen, but she didn't allow herself to show it any further. It was rare when any of her Comforts spoke of such things in front of her. Those talks were usually reserved for when she was asleep on one of their laps, when they were sure she couldn't interfere as they decided on another part of her life.

Instead, Hermione kept her eyes on the ground.

'We all needed to get away,' said Charlie.

There was warning in his voice. He didn't want this spoken about here, now.

But the look Fred, George and Lee exchanged told Hermione that they had thought over this, and it was.

'It took too long to arrive,' said Fred. 'The journey here may have given us time to relax, but it was past five when we moved past the outskirts of the town.'

'This wasn't an emergency,' said Charlie.

The tone was still there. He wanted it dropped.

Now.

But he was right. This wasn't an emergency.

An emergency was an unexpected trip. When they all of a sudden ran out of something that had to be in the house. Something that went beyond a want. It was a need.

Something that was a necessity.

That was when one of her Comforts would Apparate to one of the bigger towns.

She was no longer allowed to, not that she wanted to.

Hermione didn't do magic.

'We're not talking about that,' said Fred.

'No cars,' said Charlie.

Hermione could feel her body flinch, ever so slightly.

There was what could be used as a road up to their house, so there was a point to having a car. There was only a small problem with it.

Bill's aversion to them.

Hermione gave the slightest shake of her head.

Yet, Bill's dislike for cars had never stopped Bill from making attempt after attempt in order to try and get around his aversion of this kind of Muggle transport.

No one ever knew why Bill didn't like cars. Driving them, or being a passenger.

And Hermione and her Comforts hadn't found out that Bill didn't care for cars until after they had ended up living in the house. No one had even known that Bill had a licence to drive.

After a bit of probing, Bill had finally mentioned that when he had worked as a Treasure Hunter, it had been just easier to drive from one site to another by car, rather than by Apparition. There were too many difficulties Apparating from one site to another, even if there was someone or something to focus on.

To put it simply, he had growled, it was just less stress to drive.

And it seemed that Bill had grudgingly agreed to learn when he started as a Treasure Hunter.

It hadn't taken long for Bill and the other Comforts to realise the drawbacks of the silence and peace they gained from living far away from anyone else. If there was an emergency, unless they Apparated, it would take hours to reach the next town.

And so, after Bill had had exchanging of words with Charlie, the only other Comfort who had a driver's licence, a car had suddenly appeared in their driveway. Yet it had only lasted for a week, before Bill had made it vanish.

Hermione and her Comforts continued to live without a car, pushing themselves past their dislike of Apparating when it was necessary. But every now and then, their life would be broken by the arrival of another car.

Before it always disappeared again after a few weeks.

It had only been seven months ago that Bill had tried again, appearing after three days of sending Hermione and the rest of her Comforts into a state of near collapse with some kind of mixed 90's car in the dirt driveway. Bill had refused to explain exactly where he had been, or how he had managed to get a hold on a car. What he had done was hole himself in the house until one day, he approached the car.

He had circled the car wearily, and continued to do so for a week. The entire time his hands were twitching, and there was a strange gleam in his eyes.

By the time Bill had gotten into the habit of giving the sides of the car a kick every now and then, Charlie had taken Bill's wand and had hidden it.

Hermione had been washing up lunch, giving her a perfect view of the driveway when Bill had first dared to open the door. He hadn't shifted his body onto the seats, and he wouldn't, not for another three more weeks. No, Bill had simply stared at the interior of the car and had rubbed his hands along the sides of his pants.

Then two months after appearing with the car, Bill had sat on the back seat. His entire body had been on edge, tense as he made sure to only allow the barest amount of his body touch the seat, and the entire experience had only lasted for a few moments before he had jumped out of the car again.

Yet Bill had managed to go further, and as the days had passed, slowly, Bill spent more time in the backseat before finally venturing to the front passenger seat. Two weeks after first daring to move to the front, Bill seemed to be able to settle in the seat for a couple of minutes.

Then suddenly, Bill seemed to have the urge to twist the nozzle of the radio once those few minutes had passed before striding back to the house or into the woods.

None of them could understand why Bill had this need to touch the radio, blasting music from one of the few radio stations present in the area with their localised signals. It wasn't as if any of these radio stations broadcasted any kind of 'beats' that Bill would move to, late at night.

Bill only rocked to the music late at night, alone when he thought no one was awake, or when he had her in his arms, shifting side to side with as much of his body enclosed over her as possible.

He needed the closeness.

But Bill wouldn't explain the sudden change of him needing music in the middle of the day. He never used to. Music was something only turned on for Bill's own need at night.

Or what the music had to do with the car.

But the strange change of music only lasted for a couple more weeks.

Bill continued to last only for a few minutes in the front seat before blasting the music for a couple more weeks, and then, suddenly, the car disappeared. Hermione and the other Comforts awoke one cold, rainy day to find that the car was no longer there.

And Bill wouldn't explain exactly what had happened to the car.

But that had been the last time. No car since.

And the twins and Lee wanted to get another car?

'Bill doesn't have to drive,' said Fred.

'And you can teach us how to,' said George.

'That is not the problem,' said Charlie. 'Bill won't handle being a passenger.'

'But it would cut down on travelling time,' said Lee. 'Mione wouldn't still be here, past six in the afternoon. We still need to go to a few more shops before we can even head home.'

'We won't be back until after nine,' said Fred.

Charlie's shoulders hunched, but other than that, he showed no other sign of his disapproval of this conversation.

Even the tone had disappeared.

'We needed time away from Bill,' Charlie said.

'Not this much,' said George. 'Bill had to calm down. Yes, none of us would argue about that. But not this much.'

'By now his anger has abated and he will make sure to keep away from the rest of us,' said Fred. 'We could have returned to the house hours ago.'

'How long it takes us to complete a simple shop is not the issue up for argument,' said Charlie, 'or any of the issues that still needs to be ironed out. We are talking about Bill and a car.'

Fred, George and Lee exchanged a glance.

'We know Bill doesn't like cars,' said Fred quietly.

'And that he hates travelling in them,' said George.

Another look shared between the three of them.

'But we got around our problem of the other way,' said Lee.

Other way. Apparition.

'There is a big difference between that problem and cars,' said Charlie.

'Maybe,' said George, 'but having the advantage of a car would make the journey easier.'

'Bill has already tried,' said Charlie.

'We know that,' said Lee, 'but he wouldn't have to travel in the car.'

Charlie stared at him.

'Bill wouldn't allow himself to be left behind,' he said.

Fred sighed.

'We know,' he said, 'but some problems need to be dealt with. For Hermione's sake.'

Charlie's body went rigid.

'If this is so important to you,' he said, 'we can discuss it later.'

Damn. He had remembered that she was around.

Nothing else was going to be said now.

The three wouldn't even protest.

George gave her a quick glance.

'Later,' he muttered.

With the slightest of growls, Hermione hated it when they did this, she felt Charlie wrap his arm around her and push her out of the alley. Hermione didn't even protest, she would just have to try and overhear when the conversation was brought up again.

The rest of the Comforts followed them out of the alleyway, except Charlie didn't go very far. Keeping a solid hand on her, he motioned for Fred, George and Lee to gather around.

'We only need to buy the sweets and chocolates,' said Charlie.

'I don't need any!' Hermione hissed, worming against him in what she knew was a futile attempt.

She wasn't going to get away, Charlie wouldn't let her, but she had to get her point across. Words weren't working and sometimes Hermione felt that only one way would.

'Yes you do,' said Charlie.

She knew it. She knew there was a reason why they had decided to take a break in the shopping now.

Since she had been unable to keep how easily the crowds were affecting her, they had known that trying to convince her to walk into a sweet shop was futile. And that was why they had decided to give her a break, so that she could recover slightly before they did.

Double-handed, bleeding scheming-

'How about Mione is brought out into the forest,' said Fred, 'and the rest of us finish up the shopping?'

'No,' said Hermione.

'Myself, Lee and Fred can take care of that,' said Charlie. 'George, it better be you that starts her back to the cottage.'

'No,' said Hermione.

She was fighting against the urge to scream her anger. She couldn't let anyone else in the town hear them. They were the topic of gossip already. Hermione wasn't going to fuel it further.

It just limited her options. That was the only problem.

And now George was nodding as Charlie released his grip on her. But immediately afterwards, George was next to her, giving her no chance to get away.

Damn them.

And then Fred, Lee and Charlie were walking away, taking with them all of the bags. It left her with George, who immediately gave her a nudge.

He knew that she wouldn't dare make a break now.

Even that little and soft argument had caused quite a few stares. Hermione hadn't even raised her voice, yet there were several townspeople looking at them with glares and interested faces.

Hermione had no chance but to follow their decision. Straightening her shoulders, Hermione followed George back into the crowd, ignoring the whispers. She may still not be able to understand most of the words the townspeople used, mostly due to their heavy accents, but even she could tell that there would be a new rumour floating around by night time.

Instead, Hermione kept her eyes exclusively on George's back as they walked out of the centre square of the town and into the town's boundary. It was only upon the houses growing sparser, and all roads leaning into the main one that led out of the town did George slow down enough to walk alongside her.

'There's supposed to be a good show on tonight,' muttered George as he moved closer so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

Hermione gave a little sniff.

'Not interested,' she said.

Childish maybe, but she wasn't going to just give in.

George glanced at her, a slight smile on his lips.

'Haven't even told you which one it is,' he said.

'You are not going to get me to sleep that easy,' Hermione muttered.

George shrugged.

'Whoever said I was telling you this just to inform you that you would end up asleep,' he said, 'especially as we all know that we would then be talking about the car again.'

Hermione's eyebrows rose.

'You are warning me?' she said.

'I'm just telling you to be extra careful while listening to the radio show,' said George. 'It's the man reading Lake Wobagon.'

Hermione gave a slight growl.

'I swear you save those ones whenever you need me to fall asleep early,' she muttered.

'They work a treat, Mione,' said George. 'Can't blame us using them when needed.'

Hermione bit her bottom lip.

'And that includes your ideas of re-designing the cottage somehow?' she said.

George chuckled.

'Knew you were awake,' he said.

'Not all of your methods work,' said Hermione.

It was giving her Comforts more against her, and they would probably be more careful checking to make sure that she was asleep before they spoke over this kind of discussion again. But, Hermione had no other choice.

George was hanging quite a tasty morsel in front of her.

'I guessed that,' said George, 'but this is a completely different matter.'

Hermione snorted.

'This concerns me even more than the lot of you changing the house around,' she said.

'True,' said George, 'but it is not as if we can stop you learning how to drive, now can we?'

'You are going to allow me to learn?' said Hermione.

'Can't really stop you,' said George. 'We'll just have to hope that you don't use it when you need your time alone.'

Hermione sniffed.

'I never go that far,' said Hermione.

'Yes, but you still worry us,' said George. 'We never know for how long you are going to be gone.'

'I always return,' she said.

'But too often you don't until long after dark,' said George.

'The worst thing out there is Bill,' said Hermione, 'something all of you make sure of. And he's too careful to ever hurt me.'

'We know that,' said George, slinging a hand over her shoulder, 'but give us our worry. We need that.'

Hermione had to give him that.

She nodded.

'And besides,' said George, 'this car will help.'

'Just like Charlie said,' whispered Hermione, 'Bill will never allow it. He can't get over his fear.'

George stared at her sharply.

'You think he is afraid of cars?' he said.

Hermione ever so slightly slowed.

She hadn't meant to say anything. She had kept her mouth shut the entire time. And now…

'It's just his nature around them,' said Hermione softly.

'You mean the fact that it took him weeks to even enter the car?' said George.

Hermione shrugged.

'I just wondered…' she said.

'You think something happened to him concerning cars?' said George.

'Either him or someone he knew,' said Hermione.

George sighed.

'He won't tell anyone,' he said.

'You've asked?' said Hermione.

'We…We tried to see if we could help him,' said George. 'We thought if we could get him to open up, it would help. Every time the Full Moon came up, he got worse in his attitude around the car.'

'The Full Moon?' said Hermione. 'I didn't-'

'No,' said George, 'you wouldn't have. We keep an eye on his behaviour the entire time. If there is even the slightest hint that he might not be in a good mood, and you wouldn't be able to placate him, we keep you away. You never would have noticed how he acted to the car around then.'

And George was right. She couldn't remember his behaviour getting any worse towards the car before, during and after the Full Moon. The rest of her Comforts were so careful over her, she was only around Bill when it was necessary.

It was something that Bill insisted upon, and the rest of her Comforts agreed on.

George shifted closer, giving her a squeeze before gently lowering his arm so that he could wrap it around her waist.

'But we need to do something about our situation,' said George, 'and it looks like the best situation would be a car.'

'Even though it will affect Bill?' said Hermione softly.

George gave a nod before kissing her cheek.

'Even if it affects Bill,' he whispered.

'It's not worth it,' said Hermione.

'You mean you aren't worth it,' said George.

Hermione picked up her pace.

'If worse comes to worse, we can just use the other method,' she said.

'That is only used in emergencies, Mione,' said George. 'And it's a Muggle town.'

'You could just appear close to the boundaries,' said Hermione, 'and then come back the same way.'

Even she knew that was a weak argument.

That method was only used as a last resort, even Hermione in her anger could tell that. Shopping wouldn't ever count as such, no matter what.

Even when picking up some 'extras'.

'You can't use that,' said George. 'A car will make everything easier.'

'Not for Bill,' said Hermione.

'He will understand,' said George, 'like we said before.'

'You would put Bill through that?' said Hermione.

'For you, yes,' said George.

Hermione grabbed the arm he had wrapped around her waist.

'No,' she said.

'He would agree,' said George.

'No,' said Hermione.

'Mione,' said George, 'every single one of us would put you first.'

'And what about the rest of you?' snapped Hermione. 'Why am I worth so much to the lot of you? What about all of you?'

She could feel her anger boiling.

She never meant to become the centre of her Comforts. She never wanted to have them look after her so much.

She didn't like this feeling of taking over their lives.

But every time she brought it up, her Comforts wouldn't hear about it. They would just hug her and say that she was worth it.

Hermione couldn't get them to tell her the truth.

'Do you need to hear this again, Mione?' said George, 'especially as you won't listen to us when we do tell you?'

'You don't tell me anything,' said Hermione.

George turned his head to look at her.

'That is because you won't believe us,' he said. 'We tell you that you are important to us. We tell you and we try and show you that you are family.'

'Just because someone is family does not mean that the world revolves around them!' snapped Hermione.

She knew it made her sound as if she thought the world revolved around her, but it was the truth. Her Comforts had given up everything to bring her to this cottage, left behind the few friends that had survived the War, to look after her.

She didn't care what they said differently.

'Mione,' said George, 'the reason we moved was not only because of you.'

He twisted his entire body and grabbed her by the shoulders.

'All of us had to get away from Hogwarts,' said George, 'not only you. The War forced us to make too many sacrifices. We lost too many friends and family…'

Hermione could feel a sob suddenly rise from her throat.

He was keeping his tone level, and it had been her who had brought it up, but still…

Idiot.

She was an idiot.

George was trying so hard not to lose his temper, and it was all her fault. She was the one who had brought it up.

And now she just wanted to get away.

She didn't want to hear his words. She didn't want to continue the conversation.

It was stupid of her to bring it up.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

'Mione,' said George, releasing his hold on one of her shoulders to gently tip her chin up. 'We care for you. You are the last one left. We have lost so many, we can't lose you as well.'

Hermione tried to step back. To step away from George, but he wouldn't let her.

'We won this War,' said George, 'but we nearly lost everything. None of us could stay in Hogwarts any longer, you simply made us realise how much it was affecting all of us. That was why we left.'

'Then why won't you just let me go?' screamed Hermione, trying to free her hands so that she could claw at George's hands.

Yet, as always, George managed to regain his grip and hold her tight.

'Because Chess and KOC were family too, Mione,' said George. 'We lost them so that the bastard would be destroyed once and for all. That bastard nearly made us lose you as well. None of us are going to have that. So we are going to fight until we no longer have to.'

'But you don't have to,' hissed Hermione, as George drew her closer.

His arms were wrapped around her again, pushing her into his chest as he positioned her so that her head was up against him. She could hear his heartbeat, usually enough to calm Hermione down.

But not this time.

'Mione,' said George, 'the reason why we are so protective over you is because we are still worried about you. We are still not sure of your own health and safety. The rest of us are slowly recovering, Mione. Slowly, but we are…'

He hugged her closer.

'But you Mione,' said George softly into her ear. 'We're still not sure about you. We still worry about keeping you alive. We just can't seem…'

She could hear his voice hitch.

'We just can't seem to get through to you,' said George. 'Ever since you left Hogwarts to defeat the bastard along with Chess and KOC, we lost you. You came back after you were finally rescued, and you were just… You were just no longer there.'

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.

'We managed to get you out of their hands,' said George. 'We got you out before you were killed. But it almost was if you already were. That you died in there.'

Hermione could feel her sobs escape. She could hear them echo through the air as she lost her ability to stand. Her body slumped and it was only because of George that she remained standing.

'That you were dead,' said George. 'It was almost as if you were dead. No one could help you. You gave us blank faces, hollowed eyes. Wouldn't eat.'

He nestled his head against her.

'And every night you screamed,' George said. 'You screamed until your throat was raw. You tore the bed sheets because of your nightmares. You wouldn't speak. You wouldn't tell us what was wrong…

'And no one could tell us what those nightmares were about,' said George, 'because you were the only one who survived. The only one we pulled out of the bastard's lair, alive.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**I apologise to everyone who believed that they would be given a new chapter from me. I'm afraid that after I looked at what I had posted as Chapter Five, I immediately wanted to scrunch it up into a ball and throw it into the waste paper bin. I didn't like it at all. I found it cluttered, the entire story wavering as it flittered from subject to subject and just made me think that I had posted it too soon.**

**So, I've spent the last couple of days going over what I now class as Chapter Five, and then spreading it to Chapter Six. I'm hoping to have the next two chapters up (Chapter Seven will be new, I promise) in the next couple of days.**

**And a special shout-out to **Meggiea**, who favourite this story and gave me the needed kick to get this story back on track. If people are still reading it, then I owe them to try and finish it.**

**Thank you to everyone**

**Twi**

'**It's been a quiet day in Lake Wobagon…'** said the calm, measured and soothing voice of Jonathan Keeler.

As always, his voice simply pattered against her body, slipping into her mind and chasing away all of her angry thoughts. There was no point to them. Not when she had Lake Wobagon playing just for her in the background.

All she had to do was listen and the story…

Except, even with the measured tone of Jonathan Keeler, he couldn't keep one thought from flashing in front of her mind. She couldn't keep herself from thinking…

George shifted her ever so slightly in his arms, moving her closer to his body and…

It had been he who had settled her in his lap a few hours earlier. The one who had silenced the rest of her Comforts with just a look. George, who had wrapped his arms around her, muttered that she was to tell him if she became uncomfortable before asking Charlie to turn on the radio.

And as the slow wave of calm had descended onto the Group, the change from the radio to a small argument over what tape was going to be played tonight (Lake Wobegon had won), Hermione could feel all of them relax and…the chances of there actually being a conversation involving Bill and a car.

It hadn't looked or sounded that way earlier. The argument that afternoon had erupted from a few hissed words as Hermione had scurried up into Bill and Charlie's room to… She'd tried to hide from it all, pulling the covers over her head as she buried her body into it but still…

Her ears had been able to pick up enough to know… The look she had seen on Bill's face when they had all stepped back into the cottage had been the first nudge. And then the growing expression of the rest preparing themselves to argue…

That's when everything had come crashing back down. She'd needed to get away, even for those few moments, but what it had cost…

It wasn't what it would affect her. She'd face only the bare minimum of actual change. There wouldn't be any real retribution of what she had done because her Comforts would…attack each other for her disappearance.

It would be their own fault for all the worry, the anger, the self-recriminations.

Not hers.

It was never her.

But that didn't mean that Hermione was blind to what the truth was. She had acted out, in a moment of complete selfishness and had forgotten everything…

They were her Group. The last ones left to her and she had…screwed up.

Again.

'_There was no need for her to be moved that far from the cottage!' Bill snarled._

_Something had fallen to the floor, breaking upon impact._

_She could hear someone swear._

'_What else were we supposed to do?' said George. 'She couldn't remain in the cottage!'_

'_She was supposed to stay there!' said Bill. 'I leave the cottage, she remains!'_

'_Mione needed some freedom!' said Fred._

'_She could get her freedom inside of the cottage!' snapped Bill._

It had been at that point that Hermione had tried to disappear within the convers again, wrapping herself into a cocoon as if this extra bit of barrier would be enough to keep the voices from reaching her ears. She had been half right. She had missed more words than understood once she had taken that precaution, but still…

The growls, threats in the Male's voices had told everything Hermione needed to know.

Bill had been furious, snatching the anger from the rest of her Comforts. Sponging it off them and forcing her Males to… They had had no other choice but to do the same.

It was the only way to protect themselves from Bill. But it had…

And even all of these hours later, she could still feel it vibrating from her Comforts' bodies.

That was why she had a feeling that listening to Jonathan Keeler wasn't only for her own benefit. It was also Lee's attempt to try and dispel the horrible aura that hung around all of them.

As always, all signs of the argument had been cleared away by the time Hermione had finally been allowed downstairs for supper. The broken crockery had been swept up, all marks and bruises they had inflicted upon themselves were covered with extra clothing and other than the few words they had to speak to each other…

Nothing else was said.

Except for her. She'd stepped off the last stair, and had immediately been pulled into Fred's embrace. He'd buried her into his body and physically walked her over to their small kitchen table. And by the time Fred had slumped into one of the spindly chairs, her curled up against him, Bill and Charlie had moved apart and George was making faces at her.

And Fred was joining in, along with nonsense words.

On the surface, all had been forgiven and forgotten. But underneath…it would take days before they'd be able to return to some kind of amiable peace.

But Jonathan Keeler was helping.

Maybe…

'Mione?' whispered George into her ear.

His breath turned the entire right side of her face ticklish. Caused the smallest of flinches on her part, and forced her to make the useless attempt of turning her head away from him.

But that, as always, just encouraged him.

'Mione?' said George softly, 'keep it up and I'll shift closer to the fire.'

Hermione pursed her lips at that.

The closer Hermione got to the heat, the easier it would be for her to fall asleep. George was renegading on his earlier promise. He had decided…that it would be better for her to sleep.

And it had only taken one little act of her…shifting away from him.

Hermione inwardly sighed.

She needed to know. She needed to be able to have some hand in at least one of the big decisions. She loved her Comforts dearly, but…

They were smothering her. Almost making her…

She needed time to herself, even though-

'_You know better than to let her wander off!' hissed Bill._

'_She was not alone!' said Fred._

_The sound of crockery smashing against something._

_Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Hermione hoped that it wasn't Charlie's favourite mug._

'_She left the house unsupervised!' said Bill._

_Swear words._

_In Romanian._

_Maybe it had been Charlie's mug had been destroyed._

'_We know what happens when Mione is allowed to be left to her own devices!' said Bill. 'For Merlin's sake, we only know of bits of what she got up to when she…disappeared!'_

She hadn't meant to, in the beginning. When she had crawled out of her bed, out of Fred's hold on her stomach with his hand, and Lee's tangle of legs over hers, Hermione had just planned to fix herself a quick snack in the kitchen. She'd been filled to the brim earlier, during dinner, but when she'd awoken with a hiss (not from a nightmare, just from…a sudden need to be awake), she'd needed a cup of tea.

But in the middle of boiling the water…there had been…

She still wasn't sure what she –thought- she had seen. Out of the corner of her eye, as she had raised her hand to take the kettle off the stove, there had been a black shadow lurking next to the pillar in the middle of the ground floor. Flickering in and out of sight, as Hermione had tried to force her seized body to move.

But it hadn't. Her strength had failed her. She had been left with only her darting eyes moving, trying to keep track of every little movement of that…thing just out of her vision.

Even when it had made a lunge for her, when its' form had moved closer, Hermione had…frozen. Couldn't escape. Couldn't save her own life because…

Hermione didn't have her Brothers next to her.

She didn't have the two she trusted with her life, the ones who had proven that they would willingly die for her, by her side.

They weren't here.

They'd never be here again.

And that had been the push she needed to react.

To run.

She hadn't heard the backdoor bang behind her. That had been what had woken up Bill. Or the feel of the wet earth, the stones and broken, fallen branches crushed underneath her bare feet. The cold fingers of the wind against her over-sized man's t-shirt and baggy cotton trousers. All she had known was that…

Maybe if she kept sprinting through these woods, she would reach the edge… She would cross through the lowlands and highlands of the this part of the United Kingdom and find…

Them.

Chess and KOC.

Waiting for her.

But by the time Bill and Charlie had tracked her down, three weeks later… Hermione still hadn't found them. Her Brothers had haunted her dreams, beckoning her to join them just out of her reach. With each step she took towards them, the distance just grew between the three.

Hermione had found that if she stood still, if she took consolation in just looking at them, then… She was allowed to be with them. She could have her time…with them.

She'd be allowed to have the two close to her again.

Hermione hadn't put up much of a fight when Bill and Charlie had hauled her home. Bill had all but curled her up against him as Charlie had sent word out that she had been found. Their decision to integrate completely within the Muggle World once again earned its bread.

Muggle Cell Phones.

Worth their weight in gold.

She hadn't been trusted to be allowed alone for many months. One of her Comforts as a shadow, always by her side until…

Hermione hadn't thought that Bill's Wolf would ever calm down. He'd all but forced her to be with him nearly every minute every day. At one point…

Hermione inwardly shook her head again.

No.

Charlie had made sure. He'd interfered before Bill lost it and…forgot everything.

Bill knew that she wasn't His. That Hermione had already been Claimed and that she would never take another. But sometimes…

Sometimes Bill's Wolf wanted the only Female of his Pack to be safe. The Wolf wanted Hermione to be protected in the best way it knew how. And that method was…

Bonded.

Bitten.

Blood with blood.

This time, Hermione couldn't keep her shiver from echoing down her body.

'Turn it up,' cut in Oliver's voice.

No. She couldn't drift into sleep now. She couldn't have her thoughts dwell on her Brothers and have dreams consume her. She needed.

She had to stay awake.

She had to have time to…think over this. To be able to over-ride what haunted her before she let the night over-take. She had to push it back into that Little Box of –Don't Think About It- until she was ready…

Just as she had with that book she had discovered…lost in the area outside of the cottage.

Later.

She had to brood over it properly, later.

'Any louder and his voice will be ruined,' replied Bill.

'At this current level she'll never get to sleep,' said Oliver.

'**-Bobby watched as Mrs. Bakman walked down the street, her cane, as always, batting away the dogs from across the street. Her desire for keeping little titbits in her pockets for herself, always encouraged the over-friendly dogs belonging to Mr. King to swarm around her at every given opportunity. A visit from Skil and his Deputy Omin-' **cut in the voice of Jonathan Keeler before her Comfort's drowned it out.

'Maybe we should change it then,' said Fred.

'Enough!' cut in Charlie.

The sharpness returned. Boiling in each of the words emitted by her Comforts and forcing Hermione… She needed to see them. She needed to keep a close watch on all of them or else…

Underneath her lashes, Hermione could see that Charlie had outstretched his arms, his mouth curled downwards and a bruise that Hermione hadn't noticed before. And…it distracted her. Hermione couldn't stop herself from…

That mark must be one from earlier, maybe even from the crash that had caused her to dive further under the covers. One of her Comforts had…hurt the other.

Hermione shivered again, feeling George's arms close over her again.

No.

No.

She definitely couldn't be pulled to sleep now. She had to remain awake. Sort out of her thoughts.

She had to-

'If we can not help Mione sleep this way,' said Charlie, 'because we insist on talking over it, then we will use something else.'

'And exactly what would that be?' said Bill.

It was there again, the slightest hint of the Wolf, growing with each word. The wolf wanted to make itself clear. The Wolf…

It was hearing a challenge from Charlie, even though…


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**Hi. Me again. *Waves* I know that many of you were hoping that this would be a new chapter but I went over my last couple of chapters and decided that I needed to split my old Chapter Five into two. So, I have done so. If you are coming to this as a new chapter, please go back a chapter to understand. I promise you that I've made the story better by doing so.**

**And I also promise, that in the next couple of days (as I said in the last chapter) I will have a new chapter up. *Crosses fingers* It's about a third of the way done and I know what I've got planned now.**

**Thank you everyone who has been sticking with me.**

**Twi**

Hermione could count the amount of times Charlie had actually tried to gently –order- Bill, on one hand. Charlie never demanded anything of Bill.

Charlie was always careful with his words.

With his Tone.

Everything construed so that Bill and/or his Wolf didn't take offence.

It had been one of Charlie's first lessons after Bill had been Bitten. He'd caught on quicker than the rest of the Comforts, but he'd told Hermione…

Remus had warned him that Bill may view Charlie as the closest threat to the Wolf. There were only a few years between them, and even with Bill being the eldest…

The Wolf needed to assert Itself as the one in control.

Not that there had been any issue really. Charlie had submitted quite easily enough. He'd made sure to learn all the cues to not be as viewed as a threat from Bill and been the one to help the other Males to adjust.

And acted as a buffer when any of her other Comforts irritated the Wolf too much.

Bill, in the end, had had more trouble with her than with anyone else.

'We do have other methods to help Mione sleep, Bill,' Charlie said gently, twisting his head to the side to expose his neck to his older brother. Submission. 'We will simply use one of those.'

Bill's lips curled, the gleam still in his eyes, but he gave Charlie a nod. An acknowledgement of Charlie's exposure of his weak side. Accepted, but it would still take a little while longer before Bill's anger would subside enough to…

'And which one would you choose, Bill?' cut in the gravelly voice of Oliver.

Hermione gave a little squirm, her eyes seeking out the lounging form of Oliver in the over-stuffed chair. Just as he had once the entire discussion over the radio had been decided once and for all (Bill's growls had cut any further conversation), he had his legs stuck out and spread; one arm over his head as he picked at a trail of thread. Oliver was the perfect show of nonchalance.

Almost looked bored.

And yet, his eyes were fixed onto Lee on the other side of the living room, some kind of eye exchange flickering back and forth between them over…

Could be anything. Hermione had known that there had been Sides drawn. The voices screaming up from the downstairs had given Hermione a very clear picture of…

Bill against everyone else.

And then two Sides against each other, and Bill.

Lee and Oliver had decidedly been on one Side. Not the ones who had been pushing as hard as Charlie and the twins over the over-protection of Hermione and Bill, but still had… Nasty exchanges on how even a visit to the closest village wasn't enough…

Not enough to help Hermione.

And Bill had returned to roaring that Hermione would not remain within his easy reach from now on, even if it did mean going out in public. Bill still didn't handle well when-

'Mione?' said George's voice softly in her ear.

Hermione squirmed.

She just needed some time to think this all through. Everything was tumbling away faster from her in these past couple of days, almost as if…

Almost as if it was time to take a look back into…what they had lost. The Group were tearing each other apart and…they needed direction again. Be able to focus on something other than…what was happening now.

And Bill was very close to losing control again.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione could feel the insistent dig of George's fingers into her skin. The ever so slight shaking of her body as he tried to draw all of her attention away from…

'Mione?' he repeated again, this time voice louder and enough to catch everyone's attention.

But it couldn't focus on her. The Group needed to each have time to think by themselves and try to figure out…where the Hell they had gone wrong this time.

The moments of peace were growing short again. Twisting back to resounding echoes of their last argument when…

'George?' said Charlie's voice, ever so slightly clipped and returning to…

Scrapes from over next to the fire. The signals of…someone would be moving from their position. They'd move and interfere and then Hermione…

Hermione would have to deal with being in one twin's arms while the other…hovered over her.

'George?' said Bill.

His body tense, only moments away from moving off the chair that Charlie had all but pushed Bill into (albeit gently)and Hermione…

How was she supposed to convince Bill to remain where he was? Fred was pulling himself up from next to the fire, and that simple action would be enough to…set Bill off into insisting Hermione was in his arms again.

The only way to keep him from doing so was…

'Sleep,' Hermione whispered, burrowing herself further into George's chest.

Being moved upset Hermione when she was falling asleep. And if Bill believed that she was then… Hermione might be able to use that time until she was moved upstairs to think over how to deal with this situation.

George's soft laughter interrupted those hopeful thoughts, as he kissed her temple and gave her a hug.

'Mione is protesting that she is trying to enter Dreamland,' said George, resting his cheek against hers.

Hermione gave a soft snort.

Damn him. He was right. She was pretending, but…it wasn't just so that she could stay up for no reason. Before it had been to listen in to the conversation about Bill and the car, but now…

'Move her closer to the fire, George,' said Bill.

Shit. Even worse. The sheer warmth from that fire…

'No,' Hermione muttered, squirming again. 'Asleep.'

Laughter, this time from Charlie.

The bloody problem was that her Males knew her. Her Comforts had spent over five years with just her as their sole Female and the protectiveness over what was their last girl…

They knew her. They could see through most of her guises, because she had used them during those years of her being in their care and so…

Charlie undoubtedly had guessed-

'Can't be asleep if you are speaking to us, Mione,' Charlie said.

'Trying,' she said.

'Mione,' said Charlie, stretching out her name with the air of a man talking to a mischievous child. Though he did, once many years before, used to refer to Hermione, Chess and KOC as…

Hermione's mouth twitched.

It had all started during that first proper meeting between the three of them. One little troll, a Girl's bathroom and a spell they had learned in class, and they had cemented their friendship with their first mess. And from there…

They had never really included anyone else in their pranks/excursions. Not really. Maybe on the outside, on the edges of what they were planning to do, but Hermione, Chess and KOC were the ones who…

Hermione could remember when Bill and Charlie had been pulled in front of …the adults for the latest incident involving Hermione, Chess, KOC, the twins, Lee and…Her. One spark that had led to an explosion and the adults blaming… Bill and Charlie for not stopping them.

'_Was there at any point where you realised that you are –older- than the rest of them?' hissed the voice of McTabby. 'Your age should keep you from encouraging them. You not only know better, but you also have the experience to be able to persuade them otherwise! Did you truly believe that it would be a good idea to- No! Don't answer that!'_

'_Now Minnie,' said Bill, slouching in the chair as he gazed up at the steaming form of McTabby, 'when have we ever allowed the humdrum to spoil our fun? And if someone is attempting to elongate that, we have no other choice but to thwart them.'_

'_Bill Weasley!' said McTabby. 'Don't impersonate Sirius on me again!'_

_Bill and Charlie exchanged a look. _

'_Bill,' said Charlie. 'Are you hiding Sirius underneath your cloak again? You know Minnie doesn't like that! And Remus… Tut. Tut. You know how Remus gets when someone keeps his Padfoot from him.'_

'_Can't fit the black dog there anymore,' replied Bill. 'He keeps trying to bite my shoes. So, I had to tell him to wait outside.'_

'_Sirius Black is being spoken to by Dumbledore,' cut in McTabby, 'just as I am with you two. The sheer contempt that was shown by all of you, when you knew the younger ones were planning to cause trouble and decided to help them!'_

'_Well, when the opportunity arose…' said Bill, cocking his head and flashing his blue eyes at the old Transfiguration professor._

'_Bill!' snapped McTabby._

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.

Didn't see the older ones of the Weasley Groups often. Back Then, Hermione had spent all of her time with her Boys, or else the twins, Lee and Her. But sometimes… Sometimes the older ones would lend a hand for…mischief.

'Move her over to me,' cut in Bill's voice. 'Fred? Up! I'm sitting there now.'

Hermione wiggled, twisting her neck so that she could look out again to her Comforts. All were turned to her. All attention on her to watch for…any sign of weakness. Proof that she needed to be…

'You move me to the fire,' she muttered, 'then I'll wake up properly again. Keep me here, I'll fall asleep and you can talk among yourselves.'

Ah Hell.

Now Charlie and Bill were exchanging glances.

'Maybe we should let her sleep in bed,' said Charlie.

'No,' Hermione said.

If she was brought up to one of their beds, then the accompanying Comfort would make sure that she did fall asleep. That Male would keep himself awake until he was sure… but then Hermione wouldn't get her time to think over…all of it.

'Mione,' said George, 'I know it's barely ten, but maybe it would be better if-'

'No,' snapped Hermione. 'Not before we agreed!'

It had been one of the few allowances Hermione had secured from her Comforts. Even if she was having a 'bad day', there would still be open negotiation for when she would be moved upstairs. And it may not necessarily be with Hermione having a major say in it, but still…

Today had not been any different. Twenty minutes into Hermione being back downstairs, and the topic had been thrown out to the floor. Hermione hadn't piped up. She hadn't really had the energy to voice anything as all she wanted was to be with her Comforts again. But as she had sunk into the embrace of Fred, it had been decided.

Eleven o'clock, despite the arguments and disagreements throughout the entirety of the day. Charlie had made a point that it would be better for Hermione if she was surrounded by her Comforts for as long as possible. And eventually, the rest had agreed.

'Mione,' said Bill, a growl growing with each syllable of her name.

'You sleep better upstairs, Hermione,' said Charlie gently.

'But it's…' said Hermione, only to feel her voice fail her.

She couldn't let her temper get the better of her. If she did that… No good ever came when she let her anger control her. It would just result in…

The Group couldn't have another –discussion-. It couldn't, especially not because of her.

'What if she was to be moved to one of you?' spoke up George.

Hermione opened her mouth. Words couldn't fail her now. Not when…

But George reached down and covered her mouth with his hand.

'One of us?' said Charlie.

George visibly nodded.

'That way she will be closer to the fire so she can sleep,' he said, 'and she won't be going to bed before the agreed on time.'

She was too shattered to argue. Hermione would have to…

'Trust me, Mione,' George continued, directly into her ear. 'This is a good compromise.'

Hermione softly sighed.

Yes, it was. She didn't…

'Bill?' said Charlie.

It was all down to Bill. It didn't matter if the rest of her Comforts agreed to it, if Bill… Bill, as always, had the last word.

Silence.

Bill's dark eyes were watching Hermione's face, undoubtedly trying to assess her emotions and her needs. She couldn't even hide it from him, even if… Bill could read her best. He was the one who had taken her in first. Her first Comfort.

The one, out of all of them, who had seen within her shell.

'With me,' said Bill.

He didn't wait for a confirmation from her, or from anyone else. Bill was suddenly off his chair, striding towards her and peering down at her as his arms wrapped around her. George's hands fell away as Bill pulled her up, cradling her against his chest as he moved across the floor towards the fireplace.

Fred was already up, standing off to the side as Bill collapsed down onto the carpet. Slight movement of Hermione being juggled from one arm to the other as Bill arranged his legs before setting her back down against him, her head facing the flickering flames.

'Mione?' Bill growled softly into his ear.

Hermione felt her eyes squeeze shut.

The gentle nudge of his head against hers. Bill rubbing his cheek against hers. A small gesture of the Wolf to prove…

'Mione?' Bill repeated, the Wolf receding further from his voice as he nestled her closer to him.

'I'm here,' she whispered. 'Here.'

'I know,' said Bill. 'You're here, and I'm waiting for your line.'

Hermione dropped her head.

Yes. She had started it, hadn't she? Her reassurance that she was there. For Bill. For his Wolf. But she hadn't continued.

She had broken off…

'Trying to sleep her, too,' Hermione said.

'Don't be cheeky,' Bill whispered back.

'Ha,' Hermione found herself murmuring, her lips following the next set of words. 'You'll know when I'm being cheeky.'

But, there was no follow up of the low rumble of his laughter. The chuckles echoing out of his chest and the comforting sound that always led to Hermione…

'Bill,' said Charlie softly from across the room. 'Let her sleep.'

'Yeah Bill,' said Fred.

'Don't become just like one of us,' added George. 'Don't keep interrupting Mione from being able to.'

And yet still, it wasn't said with the usual general air of fun. They all said the words, but… It was as if each word was lined with lead, ruining the entire production of…their known stage personas.

Everything ruined.

Again.

'


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

**Hello, welcome to your new chapter. Apologies for the lateness, but here it is… *cue dramatic music* Enjoy**

**Twi**

Hermione's nose twitched at the various groups of food that she could smell through the crack of the bedroom door. It had been agreed, through the rest of her Comforts hanging around the doorway and speaking to Bill in bed, that she wouldn't be allowed to have breakfast downstairs. Hermione was to remain in Bill's bedroom until mid-day, and then, only in the lap of one of the Males, could she have lunch at the dining room table. Until then, Hermione had been given three cups of tea, toast, eggs and sausages.

Typical breakfast but still…

Hermione couldn't stop her tummy from rumbling. It was hungry again, and it didn't help that Hermione was sniffing out every single smell she could from the kitchen to try and identify exactly who was doing the cooking. And that could be determined by exactly how burnt the meal smelt, or how undercooked.

Though all of her Comforts were more than adequate at being able to cook, they each had their own degree of determining what was edible, and what they considered as food.

And from what she could tell, the food had the slightest hint of being undercooked. So, the hissing curses she could hear from Charlie, had to be from somewhere else in the living room. The fact that this wasn't in the kitchen meant…

Charlie must have been kicked out again. Lee wasn't the worse cook out of her Comforts, and he had been the easiest for Charlie to train, so…

Another little hissy fit from Charlie over not being allowed in the kitchen again. He must have pissed off Lee, hovering over Lee's shoulder while the Male had been trying to cook and now…

Charlie was slightly possessive over the kitchen. No, that was an understatement.

Charlie acted as though the kitchen was –his-.

And he didn't like it when another one of the Comforts was assigned to it. Previous experience had taught the small group that Charlie was prone to taking over preparation of any meal and being a general nuisance, unless he was forced out. And the only one with that skill was Bill, or at least two going at him at the same time.

Charlie never took it well when he was banned and so… Someone would be keeping an eye on him, more than likely Bill.

Bill.

Where was Bill?

After declaring that Hermione wasn't to leave the bed until twelve, Bill had grabbed some of his clothes and had disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to change. And Hermione hadn't seen him since, not since he had pulled the bedroom door nearly closed when he had left.

The sounds of Bill crashing down the stairs and a quick conversation among him and the rest of her Comforts. Something about his quantity of his special coffee being lower than it should be, as if… No one else from the Group would dare try any of his version of coffee. It was just too…strong.

So, Bill was wrong. Absolutely ridiculous that any of them would try to overturn their senses with that.

The bang of the back door and then silence, other than the gentle hum of the twins…murmuring to each other.

But that had been hours ago.

Where had Bill gone once had had made his displeasure known? Hermione hadn't heard any of her Comforts ask Bill to go into the forest to calm down, just known that the conversation ended and then Bill was gone.

Shouts.

Loud voices drifting in from the garden and were surprisingly…Fred and George? Hermione had thought they were still downstairs. She hadn't heard them leave but all too easily…the bedroom window was carrying their words.

Undoubtedly, this would be the twin's view of loud whispers. The Tone was too excitable, too eager to be anything else, especially as Fred and George were incapable of being quiet when they were in this state of mind.

So, the two must have been kicked out of the cottage because of it. Either they had interfered when Charlie had gotten into an argument with Lee over the kitchen or else…it had been something else. And whatever it was…Hermione hadn't heard any of it.

The Comforts had managed to keep their voices low.

Undoubtedly, the promise of the twins being allowed to be as loud as they wanted had kept it that way. It was an old belief that it didn't matter what kind of damage the twins, and usually Lee, did out there, as it couldn't affect the cottage and the inhabitants inside it. Of course the three had proven the rest of the Comforts wrong, but…

Hermione sighed.

It had only been over a year ago when-

'_Fourteen months to be exact,' _the kindly voice inside of her reminded her.

Yes, all that time ago when Fred, George and Lee had somehow managed to blow a thirteen meter crater around them, only a mile from the cottage. Hermione hadn't seen it. She'd once again been Banished into Oliver's bedroom for the day so the shaking of the building and the shattering of the window panes…of everything not pinned down…

Underneath the bed, Hermione had heard Bill's Wolf howl before another earthquake had rebounded off the cottage. The slam of a nearby door hitting against the wall before Hermione found Oliver's arms pulling at her. She'd struggled, not wanting to move from the safety of this dark cavern until Oliver's words had finally broken through.

Not moving her. No. Oliver didn't want to force her from where she had crawled into comfort, but…join her. Oliver had wrapped himself around her, pushing up against the bedsprings and nearly making the entire space claustrophobic. But for Hermione…

She'd only let herself be lost in the company of Oliver.

Hermione shivered.

She'd only seen the bare fringes of the aftermath, but even with that… She hadn't thought that the twins and Lee were ever going to be forgiven for it. Not when a fear had nearly swallowed her Comforts of their Hiding Place being discovered by the Dark, only to be the fault of the ones left to trust. And that Hermione had…

She'd accepted their apologies. The waterfall of words full of promises, apologies and sheer recriminations and punishments they would inflict upon themselves for what they had done to the last Female they knew. The last one, of the younger ones who had once shared their same air, same personal space…same love.

Their last remaining Sister.

And so the rest of her Comforts had…

Hermione had almost been certain that…

She gave a gentle shake of her head.

But they hadn't. While Hermione was kept away, in constant care of one as the rest of her Comforts…beat out the terms of punishments , the weeks had passed. Bill's body slowly lost its tension. The gold flecks of his eyes slowly crept back into his pupil, until it was his dark brown eyes gazing down at her. And the deference of the rest of her Comforts…became less and less noticeable.

It was still three months before Fred, George and Lee could enter a room without bowing their head, eyes carefully on the floor with their shoulders hunched and their steps slow and careful.

But they hadn't.

Hermione licked her lips as she pulled the blankets clover over her.

The cold crept over her again. Slowly pushing itself through her veins, her muscles and body since yesterday and after last night… Too many nights when she was with Bill. His need of her growing again until…

Hermione snuggled down further into the bed.

She had her time now to herself. At some point one of her Comforts would return to her, but until then… She could spend it trying to think. Earlier attempts to try and figure out how to get her Group to be…seamless again had just left her with…nothing.

Fred and George, the unbreakable twins, were-

Sudden clatter.

Instinctively, Hermione's eyes shot open, her hand moving to her side as if she would still- But then dread hit her when she remembered…

She didn't carry a weapon anymore. Other than her wand, no dagger, no sword… Nothing to protect herself with.

She didn't want any of that anymore. She didn't want to have to be in a world where…

And that's where her Comforts came in. They took over…

More bouncing against the far wall's window. Twisting her body, Hermione caught the third round of something hitting against the glass and then:

'Hermione?'

Fred.

A bare hiss and yet still too loud. If anyone from downstairs heard it…

More arguments. Those two were outside to make sure they didn't cause any more problems, and to refuse to follow through…

'Mione!' called up George.

With the softest of groans, Hermione slowly slipped the covers off her, only to speed up the process when she heard yet another rattle against the window pane. She couldn't have more upset. She couldn't have more raised voices.

She needed to get the two's voices to lower.

And yet when she looked down after pushing open the window, all she could see was the earnest faces of the two boys who had teased her since her…first year of knowing them. Never pranking her. It had been too rare when she fell prey to one of those intentionally, but they had delighted in…making her a conspirator without her own knowledge.

'_My dear Hermione,' said Fred, leaning down against her as he pushed her off her seat at The Gryffindor Table and grabbed her bread roll from her plate with his free hand._

_Hermione sniffed, glaring at him before turning to Neville Longbottom and muttering an apology._

'_Just want to thank you for that wonderful book,' added George from overhead, his own hand snatching one of her carefully cut pieces of roast beef._

_Book?_

_Twisting her body, she attempted to stare at the pair of them in the eye, but George's attention was still on her dinner and Fred was asking Neville to budge over further._

'_Don't you even dare think of sitting down!' Hermione hissed, pushing Fred away from her._

'_What?' said Fred._

'_You don't want to hear how successful your bit of help was?' said George._

_Hermione grunted._

'_I haven't given you any such thing,' she said._

'_Last time we met,' said Fred. 'You pointed out that book that for us.'_

'_What book?' said Hermione. _

'_The book in your hand,' said George._

'_That book?' said Hermione, 'but that was about-'_

'_Yep,' said Fred, 'and it proved very useful. None of us realised exactly how much it gave us the advantage-'_

'_What did you do?' Hermione growled._

'_Do Mione?' said George. 'Do?'_

'_Just followed its advice,' said Fred._

'_You Hexed someone to be unable to wear clothes for three weeks?' screeched Hermione._

'_Mione!' said Fred, his arms around her as he gave her a little shake. 'Don't worry!'_

'_Promise to give you the full credit!' continued on George._

And there were those phases of Fred and George again. Part mischief, -you won't believe what we think- compiled with –remember, we're completely innocent' expression on their faces as their upturned faces just gleamed at her.

'Mione,' said George. 'Brilliant. Thought you would be asleep all day.'

'Thought we'd better pass this by you before we annoyed Bill,' said Fred, making ever the slightest of faces. Took off so many years and back to when… 'He's in another tiff because of his coffee.'

Hermione's mouth twitched.

'I heard,' she said.

'Charlie threatened Bill with sending him into the City again to get more if he wanted to be such a morning person,' said George. 'So, we decided to leave.'

'And wake you from your window, like a beautiful Rapunzel,' said Fred.

Hermione snorted.

'You still haven't explained exactly why you became so fixated on that story,' said Hermione, 'out of all the books I read to the lot of you.'

'Well it did inspire turning your hair all golden for a week,' said Fred.

'Still doesn't tell me how you picked that story as your favourite,' said Hermione.

George shrugged, dipping his head slightly as his entire body…shifted to one of almost…bashfulness.

'Because in the story,' he said softly, 'tears made everything better.'


	8. Chapter 8

They'd travelled along this path before. Most of the various trails lining this forest, some made beforehand, others crated by their own feet, had at one point or another, guided them along. Each of the Group had their own particular ones they preferred, and Fred and George… They knew exactly which one she liked.

It wasn't the longest one twisting its way around the cottage and the adjoining hills. That was Bill's. He'd stomp along it several times when he was in one of his bad moods, and it gave him enough time to calm down.

It was the one that lost out to this position by about a quarter of a mile, It still took enough time to complete a circuit. It would take about two hours for Fred, George and Hermione to do one lap, and by then…

The three would probably still need to do a few more before they could feel they could return to the cottage. Hermione had all too willingly crawled down the vines lining up the cottage wall to join them after…George's statement.

For that was it, wasn't it? Fairy tales had endings that could not only be believed in the perfect world, but also had some kind of happy ever after. Even the ones that were dark, depressing and two dimensional characters… By that final sentence, there was some kind of hope.

Just like it had in Rapunzel. The woman's tears had cured the blindness of the prince's eyes and he had brought her to the kingdom where she was crowned princess and the two…had lived together, content.

Tears should have worked. The droplets of sadness, the amount of power that was contained within them, should have been enough to bring back the ones they had lost. Especially when the one Passing On was contained within their Sister's arms. When the loving sobs choked the air the one dying was gasping for, and the liquid dripping from their eyes splashed upon the hurt's faces.

It should have been enough.

And yet, even with all of that… Even with Hermione cradling her Sister into a body that had been through a Battle that had nearly killed herself as well, She should have lived. Hermione should not have had Her die right in front of her.

If there had been any justice, after Hermione had lost KOC and Chess…

'Damn,' muttered Fred, his body slipping away from being next to her to a large tree just off to their right.

His hand reached into a prickly bush below it, dipping his hand past the thorns before pulling out… something blue.

'What is it?' said Hermione, pausing before feeling George curl his hand around her arm again. He gave her a gentle pull, guiding her back into a walk and away from Fred.

Side-step around, Hermione kept up George's pace, but she could see Fred stuff the blue object underneath his sweater.

'Nothing Mione,' said George, as Fred gave Hermione a quick grin before joining them again.

'No,' Hermione said, giving George's hold on her a shake. 'That was something.'

Ever so slight exchange of something between the two, as they each took a side again and practically led her further down the path.

'It's just someone's lost belongings,' said Fred.

'There are people wandering in?' said Hermione softly.

There had never been much magic used in the cottage or its surrounding area. Just enough to set up barriers, to keep anyone with magic blindly entering and protection and warning spells just in case…

But no one ever had. All the action, all where the magic creatures were gathering was…far away from here.

'No,' said George, shaking his head. 'No. No one can journey through here. We've made sure of it.'

True, but then how…

'We just pick up a few things every now and then,' added Fred. 'Dump it somewhere else.'

Hermione nodded.

'But beyond that,' said George, 'never anything helpful.'

'Besides,' said Fred, 'the reason why we chose this route was to start up again about a certain object.'

'Object?' repeated Hermione.

Was this about the fairy tales? One of the books that had been taken from That Place had been a lengthy, full version of the Grim Brothers, along with Anderson and of course, the…other equivalent. And sometimes, one of her Comforts would hold Hermione in their lap, and just read…one of those. Yet those moments were rare, as when any of them were softly spoken to her, meant…

'Didn't pick this path only for how long it will take,' said George. 'It also gives us some breathing space while we talk about it.'

Fred nodded.

'George told me that you were wondering about the car,' said Fred.

Hermione's shoulders ever so slightly hunched.

She'd completely forgotten. After last night, when the cracks within her Comforts had become even more apparent, Hermione had only thought…

'And we both agree,' said George, his hand sliding up her arm. 'We still think a car should be bought for our use. Charlie knows how to drive and he could…teach the rest of us.'

'Bill doesn't have to have anything to do with it,' added Fred. 'We know he doesn't want one but… We still need one. After…'

Pausing in step ever so slightly, George reached over her back to gently touch Fred's hand.

'There's no point trying to hide any of this from you, Mione,' said Fred. 'We may have been the ones who laid down all the extra wards and such, but… We can't depend solely on the magic.'

She could feel George's arm move again against her, and as she gazed over at him, she realised that it wasn't for her. It was for his twin. The two's blue eyes were met in…one of their silent conversations.

'Every bit of it is kept low key,' said George, his gaze tearing away from Fred as he smiled down at her. 'We keep that promise, but still…'

'There are too many instances when we still need to use our wands,' added Fred. 'Re-touching the barriers and protections to make sure that…'

Hermione gulped.

To make sure that no one from That World ever came across them. Out there, away from the less populated areas of this country, there was a War still burning. It had long ago begun its creeping outside of the city's edges and was affecting the ones who lived in the countryside.

Didn't matter if you were magic or not. The War was there and…

Her Comforts did all they could to keep it from encroaching their little Safe Haven. But still…

'A car gives us a way to not draw more attention to ourselves,' said George. 'It's something we need. We're not going to lie to you, Mione. We need to have more advantages, and a car…provides us with that.'

'That's why we need you to back us up,' said Fred.

'Me?' said Hermione, 'but why would Bill be persuaded just because I said so?'

'He allowed a car last time because of you,' said George.

'But he got rid of it,' said Hermione.

'He'd be more inclined to keep it if you push for it,' said Fred.

'But…' said Hermione.

She didn't want to be that kind of girl. She didn't want to insist on her own way. Of her having the final say.

None of her Comforts to be wrapped around her finger, and Bill…

He'd already done so much for her. She couldn't ask for him to have a car, an object that he seemed to fear in their possession, when…

'He listens to you, Mione,' said George. 'You're the only one who can stand up to him.'

Hermione snorted.

'I hardly –stand- up to him,' she said. 'We argue.'

'No one else can do that,' said Fred. 'His Wolf won't allow it.'

'As the only Female,' added George, with a small smile, 'the Wolf, and Bill, won't allow any harm to come to you.'

The only Female remaining out of all the Females Bill had aligned himself with, whether they were Family Members (adopted or otherwise) or else friends of one of his younger siblings. And so Bill…wouldn't release his grip of her.

'He doesn't like cars,' Hermione said weakly. 'I can't insist-'

'Mione,' cut in Fred, 'for you…He will do it.'

'And we need that car,' said George.

'This was hardly what I meant when I asked for your help,' suddenly cut in the voice of Charlie.

He stood off to the side of the path just ahead, arms crossed and his head to the side. All that was missing was a tapping foot, something he had picked up from Aunt…

'Hermione will be what will win him over,' said George.

'Not if you make her feel as though she will be forcing Bill into getting it,' said Charlie.

'Bill won't willingly give in,' said Fred. 'Merlin knows why he has a thing against cars, but if we have any chance we need Hermione to –persuade- him.'

'There was a reason why I said that we should discuss it between the three of us before we approached Mione,' said Charlie. 'Not suddenly ambush her.'

'And the sooner we get the car,' said George, 'the better.'

'It will take time before we can approach Bill,' said Charlie.

'Exactly what does have Bill have against cars so much that it would take so much time?' snapped Fred.

Charlie's body straightened, his arms falling to his side as he raised his right eyebrow.

'I've already told you,' said Charlie. 'Bill will tell you when he is ready. That is the way it has to be.'

'Then why isn't that for everyone else,?' said George.

'That was due to natural events,' said Charlie. 'None of us influenced that bit of information about the three of you coming out.'

Information? Something about the twins-

'And now isn't the time to discuss that!' said Fred. 'Later!'

'But-' said George.

'Later!' hissed Fred, stepping towards his twin with an almost…cold look in his eyes.

This is what she meant. This…distance between the two of them that used to be able to finish each other's sentences. They thought in tandem sometimes, could have conversations between them just by looking at each other's eyes, or bodies. But now…

It was all destroyed.

Now they argued openly.

'Mione,' said Charlie, giving a little jerk of his head. 'Time to come back.'

'We've still got a way to go on this path,' said George.

'The three of you have been gone long enough,' said Charlie.

'Barely an hour,' said Fred.

'Still time for you to return to the cottage,' said Charlie. 'Lunch is already up.'

'That was early,' said George.

'We got hungry,' said Charlie.

Fred rolled his eyes.

'You mean Bill got hungry,' he muttered.

'Don't start another argument with him over that!' hissed Charlie.

'Why?' said George, 'because you've already had your little hissy fit over the kitchen?'

'Enough!' snarled Hermione, stomping her foot. 'Don't fight!'

The smallest of pauses, as Fred and George took a step back from Charlie, with their older brother hanging his head ever so slightly as he sighed.

'Sorry, Mione,' said Charlie. 'Didn't mean to start.'

George snorted.

'Let's go back,' said Charlie, wrapping his arm around her and pushing her into the undergrowth. A shortcut back to where they lived.

And a way to try and forget that they had had a disagreement in front of her. Her Comforts tried so hard to hide…all of that from her. And Hermione…could only add this to the long line of –what was wrong with her Comforts-.

She'd have to wait, and choose a better moment to bring it up again.

'Did Bill really need to eat now?' said Hermione softly as they walked side by side.

A small shrug from Charlie.

'He went for a long run this morning,' he said, 'and came back hungry.'

Hermione dipped her head, as she…

'Is he….?' she said.

'He's fine, Mione,' said Charlie. 'In a good mood and everything.'

'Really?' said Hermione. 'He disappeared from the bedroom and…'

'Went on a run, Mione,' said Charlie. 'Like I said. He needed to get rid of some energy.'

'He got his coffee in the end?' said Hermione.

Charlie chuckled.

'Despite all his grumbling that his coffee amount was lower than he thought it should be,' he said, 'he had his cup before he ventured out.'

'And the kitchen conversation?' said Hermione softly.

Charlie's grip on her tightened as he gave her a side hug.

'Wondered if you had heard that,' he said. 'Yeah, I got kicked out of the kitchen.'

Hermione's mouth twitched.

'Again?' she said.

'I don't make a habit of it,' said Charlie, giving her a little jab with his hip against her.

'Didn't you get pulled out by your ear only last week?' said Hermione.

'Damn Oli,' muttered Charlie, rubbing the back of his head.

'Oi!' said Oliver, leaning against the tree just ahead of them. 'No disparaging remarks about me when I can't belt you one in retaliation!'

'Last time you ended up getting thrown onto the couch,' said Charlie.

'Only because it was the twins!' said Oliver. 'Damn two ganged up on me.'

'Shouldn't have tried to take both of them on,' said Charlie, with a laugh.

'Yeah, well,' said Oliver. 'Hurry up and get inside. Fred and George better be just behind you.'

'They're coming,' said Charlie, 'just dragging their asses.'

'Good,' said Oliver. 'This is going to take the entire afternoon.'

'Lunch is going to take an entire afternoon?' said Hermione as the two followed Oliver the last few steps towards the clearing around the cottage.

'No,' said Oliver, 'we just need to quickly get this over with.'

'What over with?' said Hermione. 'Lunch?'

'Bill was hungry,' said Charlie, 'but we thought that it would be better to eat first so that we didn't in the middle of it.'

'It?' said Hermione as they crossed the back door.

Charlie sent her a slight smile.

'We need to talk,' said Charlie. 'We think…'

'We think we might have to make some changes,' said Oliver.


	9. Chapter 9

Several hours later, Hermione was very quickly leaning towards the decision that none of this had been a good idea. There would be problems, there always were, but today… The entire mood of the Group was still bubbling between the anger, annoyance and sheer stubbornness to anyone else's view thrown around during the past couple of days, but add in the decision of IT…

Fred and George's earlier mood, hadn't improved. If anything, their mood swings had worsened, reducing them to sniping out half formed sentences when they weren't throwing out information to just aggravate everyone further. And any time the conversation turned towards IT…

Their contributions bordered on the nonsense, leading into one-way monologues between the two that refused to allow anyone else to interfere, complete with thumping of the table with their fists as if to prove their point. And Charlie had tried. Lined every single one of his words with the –I am your older brother and you will listen to me- as he had moved into the two's personal space and ordered them to keep their mouths shut.

It had almost been too close to Bill's own displays of being the Head of the Group. It was enough to even… But Bill had barely blinked at it all. Each time Charlie had tried to force Fred and George to…get back in line, Bill had simply leaned back, eyes ever so slightly narrowed but otherwise…

It was only after the third round of Fred's own handiwork of switching the conversation to something else, had a chink appeared in Bill's armour. Or, at least, the slightest trembling within his body, despite his stoic shoulders and his eyes… They hadn't turned amber. Merlin, if they were that colour, Hermione would have been pulled into one of the bedrooms, complete with one of her Comforts, and the remaining Males would have –duked- it out between them.

And yet Hermione felt that maybe… Maybe Charlie should interfere, even at this early stage. She knew that he already had his hands tied with the twins, but Bill…

Despite Oliver's best intentions, his own brashness all too easily embodied Fred and George's own recklessness in the fit of a temper. If needed for strength, then he was perfect but when Bill was only beginning to show signs of his Wolf, there needed to be tact.

Maybe if Bill's own growing anger was cooled, then it could be passed on to Fred and George. Sometimes if the ones who were most likely to react badly to the two were removed from the situation, or at least their emotional reactions were, Fred and George would lose this –need- of theirs to cause trouble. A slim chance, as the two had been displaying this since the morning but…

The entire conversation would be problematic. IT caused arguments. IT was usually ruled by them until all were exhausted and then simply out of mindlessness trauma they carried IT out. But IT couldn't be underlined by even more. More reasons for them to fight.

There was never a good time for IT, even with the leeway of two weeks. But IT had to be done, they had all agreed on that. And the set on a certain amount of time for IT had been done in order to force them…to have to undertake IT.

But IT had fallen on the worst point of this year for them. There was already too much else going on, and even the sheer fact that IT had to take precedence…

During those two weeks, their world revolved around IT, and it wasn't until IT was over that… The Group could only afford to take a rest after five days of IT, and then…

All those previous problems would return to bear on their shoulders. Hermione rarely spent the aftermath with the remaining Group. She was usually handed over to one Male who looked over her, and confined her to a specific bedroom or else the land that surrounded their cottage, and was saved from…the rowing that erupted from the –waste- of IT. Not only for her own protection, but also…

Intentionally, or unintentionally, Hermione always made the results from IT worse. Not only because she was left in the same volatile mood as the rest of her Comforts, but Hermione's attempt to deal with it all was to…lose herself in what she termed as Common Sense. State the obvious repercussions from what they had learned from the latest round of IT, while the Males…tried to dumb down the entire event with their versions of leeway.

Neither side would give, even those that agreed with Hermione's points, and in the end…

'The state of the far block of stone hasn't been significantly changed in hundreds of years,' cut in Charlie's voice, his right hand in a fist as the other tapped out a rhythm with his knife against the empty plate. 'And no, you are not being given permission to chip away at it to add a few more –interesting- designs.'

He shot Fred and George another one of his infamous looks, an expression he had been trying to use sparingly all day to keep it at its most affective, but it was slightly ruined by the fact that Lee, acting as another barrier from the other side of the two, decided to take the moment to murmur a few of his own words at them. Lee drew away Fred and George's attention, as the pair cocked their heads in his direction and for a few moments…

The twins seemed lost in thought, though Lee's words… It was too low for Hermione to catch it, but it noticeably caused Bill's stiff back to ever so slightly curve, so maybe…

Maybe Lee had accomplished what Charlie had been trying to ever since lunch began? And Charlie…? His own amusement at whatever had been exchanged was hardly any less noticeable. His fist had opened, his fingers taken over the beat of the knife as the cutlery piece was clanged one final time against the table.

'Permission?' echoed Fred, shoulders dropping as he earned himself a snort from Oli. 'There's a Bill of Sale for it now?'

'It's not as if we're going to make it look all gregarious and all,' added in George.

'Nice addition of the thesaurus work there, Gred,' said Fred, as the two gave a stamp of their feet in approval of each other's play. 'Knew Mione's thing had gone somewhere.'

'We're not scratching on swear words,' said George, 'or make it have a gothic design-'

'Though that is a thought,' said Fred.

'Yeah,' said George, 'but not this time. We're just going to make it…pleasant.'

'That stone is staying in the exact state it is now,' said Charlie, his voice lower and with a heavy weight of –end of discussion- running underneath it.

Fred shot out one of his own very low murmurs. Oliver, from his position on the far end of the table, gave what was either a chuckle or a growling hiss. It was anyone's guess whether that was of approval or disagreement.

It certainly had passed by Bill's sense of hearing.

'Might as well make it interesting,' Fred muttered. 'Add a little bit of extra prettiness to it all. It is one of our usual markers for the area, so at least we could make it more noticeable.'

'We know where it is, Fred,' said Charlie. 'It's on one of our usual trails. We don't need to make it fluorescent or anything to make it more obvious.'

'Fluorescent,' whispered George, as he exchanged a glance with his twin.

'Shit,' growled Charlie.

'Don't even try it,' said Lee.

'But at least it would be less possible to miss it,' said George.

'It's the only big hunk of rock that is missing a large part of its side and has a pointy top,' said Charlie.

Fred snorted.

'And the stone will be even more important,' hissed Bill's voice, laddened with the softest of growls, 'even more obvious to us, as we will be using it during IT.'

Fred's body drew back, the movement forcing his chair to screech against the wooden floor as he turned narrowed eyes at his eldest brother. As his hands instinctively leant against his chest, George's own near lurch out of his chair caused Lee to raise his own arm, holding it inches away from George's stomach. And Oliver…

Oliver had already pulled himself in Hermione's direction. One arm wrapped around the back of her chair as he shifted his body over, and nearly dumped himself into her chair.

'Bill,' said Charlie quietly, 'the stone is now what would be called important to any of us.'

The smallest of smirks from Bill, as he gazed back at Charlie. It was almost as if…his entire body had just exhaled out all of the previous annoyance and now… Now as if there was a joke to be shared, one that he expected Charlie to get. Only…

'But it is big enough to hold any objects that we hold dear,' Bill said, 'to be used during IT.'

The drawl of the Wolf was still there. Still quite prominent, just as it had been since lunch had begun and yet… There was no real anger rumbling within it. Not what Hermione would expect to be there, considering Fred and George's refusal to allow the subject of the conversation to be exclusively on IT. Bill was…the calmest Hermione had ever seen him on the eve of IT.

'You wish to use the stone in The Ritual?' said Charlie, standing up.

He turned, his hip resting against the table and acting as a more effective barrier as his head turned to stare over at Oliver. Hermione couldn't see Oliver's face, but Charlie's twitch of his mouth… It was an obvious signal between the two.

Understandably, Charlie wasn't exactly sure how to deal with Bill's strange behaviour. Outbursts, tantrums, throwing of stuff… All of that was normal for Bill when he wasn't getting his way during a conversation. But this…this keeping his tone level, other than the growl, was completely alien for Bill.

So, Charlie wanted help.

'Outside?' added George, as Charlie gave the softest of grunts in warning.

It would be stupid to try and test Bill by questioning it in normal circumstances, but with this unusual side of him… None of them knew what kind of outcome this conversation would have, or even if the usual methods of swinging it back their way would work. They had no previous experience when Bill was acting like this. And with Charlie and Oliver trying to soothe Bill…

No.

She would have to help as well. Lee would be pulling for Charlie and Oliver's help because of the twins and so Hermione…

She just had to choose her words carefully.

Careful careful little monkey.

'We've done it outside before,' said Bill, his head ever so slightly coked as he locked eyes with the twins from across the table. 'And no rain, sleet or snow is going to stop us.'

Hermione, despite herself, snorted.

Bill did share his fascination with certain parts of the Muggle World with…

Hermione cleared her throat.

It had been the post office's decree that had caught his attention all that time ago. She had introduced it to him, though not on purpose. It had been during one of the many firsts for the Group, and even with it becoming more commonplace as the Group had to interact with the Muggle World more and more… There were still bits of it that caught her Comforts off guard and they…

In this case, it had been a TV licence. It wasn't as though the Group could nick the channels from anyone else in the vicinity, as they were in the most remoteness part of Scotland. The closest bit of civilization to them was the village and that… None of them had signals strong enough to reach where their small cottage was. And so, even to receive the barest amount of channels, they needed some kind of dish. And as it had been decided by her Comforts that the TV was an extravagance that they needed…

It had been collectively agreed that they would need the more expensive package, thereby introducing the Group to all the needed extras to make it possible.

Hermione never exactly knew where all the money came from to pay for all of this. For supplies, for food, that was all quite feasible. Bill and Charlie had always put money aside when they were still working, and Fred, George and Lee had been making profits up to their ears with their shop. And Oli… He had had his career as Second String before being pushed up to First. So, Hermione knew that there was money, but…

It was still holding out, even after all of these years.

Surely by now…

Hermione gave a shake of her head. Off topic and just confusing herself. Adding even more problems when right now… Right now she had a pleasant memory of bringing Bill down to the post office.

It had been Bill's first time to the village for anything other than supplies (it had been agreed collectively by the rest of the Group to keep his interaction around Muggles as few as possible), and once the money needed had been taken out of the ATM (thankfully something Bill was acquainted with so Hermione didn't have to go through the entire debacle of when she had accompanied by the twins), the two had entered the post office to Bill's…

He had been in a post office before. Just never a Muggle one, and the differences… Bill had, just like everyone else in the line, grumbled softly to themselves at how long it took each person at the counter to finish up their business, and how Hermione and himself had obviously chosen the wrong line, as the other one on the far right was going much quicker. But, most of that had been under his breath, though just loud enough for Hermione to catch.

And with each pearl of wisdom from his mouth, Hermione hadn't been able to keep herself from laughing as she listened in on Bill's many thoughts of exactly how he would make this entire business go better. But it had been when the two had been called to their own window that Bill had come up with his strangest thought.

It had already been agreed that Hermione would carry out the entire business, with Bill listening in. The two would then pass on all the information they gathered to the rest of the Group, as they had done when setting up the bill for the electricity, the water and so on, so that any of them would be semi-capable of using the post office for such reasons. And yet at some point, when Hermione had been speaking to the nice lady on the other side of the counter, Bill's eyes had noticed the old and slightly ruffled banner running above the entirety of the windows, and had pointed out the motto to her.

His voice, hadn't been all that quiet either, thereby catching the attention of the lady who had been filling out some paperwork. And with a smile, the lady… Well, it had been one of the few times when the ice had broken between Bill and any of the inhabitants of the village. Bill's usual reasons to be within the boundaries of the area was mostly met with a very moody Wolf, who kept his eyes roaming as to never catch any Muggles' eyes and was all but emanating –Don't even think about it-.

And so for Bill to have a proper conversation, that wasn't the basic interaction of a buy…was a bleeding miracle.

'If it starts snowing in August again,' said Fred, 'then we're not wasting it by taking care of IT.'

'We'll be instead creating snow angels, snowmen and the like,' added George.

'Better for Mione,' said Fred, giving a jerk of his head towards her.

He leaned back on his chair, tilting his chair onto its back two legs, as his body twisted to turn towards Hermione. She was given a flash of his smile, that little twitch of his mouth as his expression informed her…

Fred would not be backing down on his reluctance in taking part of IT. Any excuse, whether it was physically or by words, would be used to make sure…

The twins and Lee had been less and less sure of the importance of doing as each year had passed. They understood that the rest of the Group believed that it was necessary, but they…

The three believed there was no point in trying to make sure that the World out there…

'It is best to get It over with,' said Charlie. 'We are already late enough as it, and if we put It off for any longer-'

'The window for actually starting IT was only possible three days ago,' cut in George.

'And we were not ready,' interjected Fred, his chair jolting as he scraped himself even closer to George.

Hermione ever so softly added her own snort.

Lies. What they meant was that –Hermione- hadn't been ready. Her Comforts had accomplished IT with even more of an anger management problem than the past couple of weeks. Merlin, for one year, they had been forced to do IT just three days after the Full Moon because the run-up to it had been so bad that Bill…

Hermione's well-being on the other hand, was another matter.

And what made those words ten times worse was the fact that the Group would never admit it. They'd prefer to dumb it down by pretending that something or someone else had the hand in IT being put off.

The problem with IT… Merlin, there were more than could ever be counted. The entire reason for IT was viewed so volatile, and too close to why the entire Group had gone into hiding in the first place that, that… IT always brought back the nightmares, not just for Hermione, but for everyone else as well. She hadn't been the only one to lose Ones she was close to, and all of them…

They were trying to run away from their past as well. Forget as much as possible what they no longer had. IT just…reminded them of it all.

If it was possible, none of the Group would ever attempt to find out how the War was continuing. How it was invading every single aspect of the lives of both Worlds. But at the same time…they needed to know how the War was going.

Needed to know if they were in danger.

And yet still her Comforts… They had to know that giving her a few more days wouldn't change her own emotions. Wouldn't make her feel any better or any more disposed towards what IT would force upon her. It would have been much better…

She might have been better prepared if she had been given warning that IT was so close. Even if it was just a few days, then maybe Hermione…

It wouldn't have prevented the earlier arguments, the fights erupting among her Comforts. IT just made everything worse, even with the simple mention of IT approaching. But at least…

It was a pity that it had already been proven that IT couldn't be accomplished missing some of the Group. They'd attempted it before, when Oliver had come down with the flu and could hardly be dragged out of bed, let alone sit upright in a room and keep up with the chanting, the strict timed events, etc. Leaving out Oliver had only left the Group with having to start the process all over again two days later. It had still been difficult, as Charlie had had to guide Oliver through it all, with pinches to release his magic, or decrease it, and murmuring directly into Oliver's ear when Oliver had to add his own words.

That IT had been an entire mess, but the Group had managed it.

Somehow.

'Well we are now,' said Bill, 'so I'd advise you to get all of your needed supplies ready. I believe some items need to be re-collected.'

'Damn Crystal Ball of Tranquillity,' muttered Oliver against Hermione's cheek.

'We still have that,' said Charlie, raising an eyebrow, 'so you won't have to go back to the shop.'

'Good,' said Oliver, 'if I had to listen to that shopkeeper one more time about the colour of my aura.'

'Then just don't make sure we don't lose it again,' said Lee, rolling his eyes, 'and you won't have to.'


	10. Chapter 10

AU:

Apologies for how long it took me to finally get this posted. I just couldn't get it right and then by the time I had a draft I was semi-happy with I came down with the flu. So, back on the road to recovery and did a final check of this before putting it up. As always, any mistakes are my own. I don't have a Beta (would really like one so if anyone interested, please contact me) so please bear with me. If there are too many problems with this chapter, I'll take it down again and re-type it up. Hopefully that will not happen.

And on to the story

It felt too heavy. Too scratchy. Too much. Hermione knew that it was none of these (there had been remarks from Bill, slightly snide, that the cloaks were thick, but were enshrined in silk) but against her skin… It was as if the material…

All this bloody thing was, was a stupid cloak. A long, thick piece of cloth temporarily wrapped around her shoulders (couldn't be removed soon enough) and…

Hermione took in a deep breath through near gritted teeth.

And it was bleeding normal to be used in this kind of circumstances. Bill had insisted upon it, nearly gone into this long lecture over…

But it was part of the Ritual. An added benefit to what they were already trying to do, and considering that it was only once a year…

It could be worse, Hermione guessed. The Arrangement might not have been agreed upon and then they'd have to do IT more than once a year. They might…

And all Bill wanted, he had snapped, was for them to trust him on this.

Trust.

Hermione ever so slightly snorted.

Trust had come a long way in all of this. Bill had told them to trust him not only on his idea to actually use these cloaks in the Ritual, but also on where he had gotten them in the first place. None of them were stupid. They knew that Bill must have…

Charlie had still tried a little bit of nudging on his part for information, in a desperate plan to try and over-ride Fred, George and Lee's resounding chorus of –Not on your life's- when they realised that Bill was actually serious about them wearing the cloaks. It hadn't really silenced the three's refusals, if anything once they had realised that Bill was actually paying less attention to them because of Charlie, or helped Bill's temper but at least… It had been slight respite for Hermione and Oliver (both who were on the side lines though more because Oliver was keeping Hermione company while the rest argued) but that hadn't lasted long.

And the Group had learned a bit more over the entire issue of exactly –why- Bill was adamant on these cloaks. Old cloaks. Ones that…

Hermione hadn't wanted to pay attention. All of the explanation was right up with That Little Box that Hermione ignored as much as possible, but… Bit harder to ignore the entire argument when Oliver wouldn't allow Hermione to disappear into one of the bedrooms. Bill had…

Bill believed that it was necessary for her to hear it all. And though Hermione had cut out of much of it as possible once she could, locked it all up into That Little Box and ignored it, there had still been enough…

Residual magic. Prior use collected on the materials with each spell and as the years passed… Well, it gave the new wearer of those cloaks an added boost.

And Bill thought that this overthrew any aversion the Group might have against such kind of clothes.

Not that this had stopped the protests. Quite a bit of yelling on the part of the twins and Lee, enough that this had drawn Oliver back into the fight. His hands had slipped from around her waist as he had stepped next to Charlie and Hermione… Hermione had taken the opportunity presented to her, and had retreated to the garden. She'd been allowed a few moments to herself, escaping into the woods to escape not only the shouts of Fred, George and Lee but the harsh rumbling of Bill before… She'd been chased back into the cottage, Oliver pushing her up against his side to the sight of…

She didn't like disagreements. She hadn't before and she still didn't now. And to hear it between her Comforts…

It was softer now. Most of the disagreement had already been ironed out, mostly because this was such an old argument after all of these years that… But it didn't mean that the spat among her Comforts earlier that day hadn't left a dark cloud over all of them, even though the entire Group knew that disputes couldn't come between them and IT.

Nothing could.

Not even illness.

They'd tried. Tried to get around it before only to…

A few years back, when they were still new with IT (and with all of IT's restrictions), Oli had gotten sick. Not badly sick (as in the entire Group was worried that he might not…) but suffering enough that…

Hermione gave an inner shake of her head.

The Group had thought that they might have to ask for outsider help. Even with everything they had been through, their levels of healing were just basic and ordinary sickness like a bad case of the flu…

All they knew was what they remembered from… the past. Lots of hot soup when hungry, keep the patient warm but don't allow to overheat, and plenty of water. And with Hermione's own knowledge of Muggle solutions… a quick visit to the pharmacy in town.

But none of that had made Oliver well enough to actually participate in IT as the Group had quickly learned.

They'd still made an attempt. Even though all of them knew that Oliver could barely rest his back against pillows in his bed, let alone sit up or that each time Oliver needed to move his body… How could Oliver sit on the living room floor (even if he was held up by the twins sitting on either side of him) get through the entire Ritual, even if they could get him to speak up when it was his turn with the correct chants and so forth?

But they had had to try, hadn't they? IT was still fragile (even now it still bloody was) and they had decided to at least try, despite how futile it would be. Only to learn…

Oliver was too weak to do it. They'd successfully managed to bring him downstairs (or at least, the twins had), covered in several layers with a cold compress tied to his forehead and to the back of his neck, and with Fred and George acting as his support beams. Bill had acted as the one to help Oliver intone his words (usually with one of the twins giving Oliver a poke or a gentle push to catch his attention), and yet…

Two hours into the Ritual (just as the first Phase of IT was oh so close to being over), Oliver had missed his cue. Just one little bit of silence when he was supposed to be speaking and… IT had just become completely useless.

Completely failed.

And in the end of it, Oliver was still sick and obviously too sick to continue. Add in the little fact that he had been extremely pissed about being dragged out of bed when he had some version of the flu meant that he refused to show any remorse. And Fred and George…

They were more obvious about hating IT, even if it did make Bill…

The entire situation hadn't made Bill any better. The Wolf had reared its' head, growing out the entire uselessness of the entire attempt, prowling back and forth in the living room as Charlie… tried to organise the rest of the Group. He motioned for Fred and George to return Oliver where he belonged (in bed) as Lee and himself… kept their necks bared as they shared looks between themselves to how to deal with Bill's Wolf Side.

The Wolf didn't take orders. None of the Pack dared to ever really argue with the Wolf. Or at least most –sane- ones didn't try and argue with the Wolf.

Hermione was the exception. Would always be. The arguments that erupted between herself and Bill.. It was almost as if they were the exact same ones she used to have against… Chess.

Hermione sniffed.

Brother like Brother.

Hermione could feel the corner of her lips flicker at that thought. Never would have thought that there was –that- much similarity between the two. Bill had always been viewed as –cool- by Hermione (even she had had to admit that there was no other word for that older Weasley) and Chess…

**-Ron snorted.**

'**Not all of us Weasleys are the same,' said Ron, giving her the slightest of snarls as his blue eyes narrowed.**

**Hermione rolled her eyes.**

**Never could stand being compared to, or even thrown in with being –just another- Weasley. Any attempt to actually point out the difference, such as telling Ron to ignore any reference made by Malfoy just left Hermione…**

**Just left her being labelled as the bad guy by Ron.**

**Fucking stubborn wizard.**

'**I know that,' said Hermione.**

**She could feel her body just fall back into its' default state, her leaning hard on one foot, hip shifting to the side and her arms cross across her chest as she stared back at the boy who was her friend. Currently. At the moment, Ron was acting as the kind of –friend- who had to have a physical shield put up against him. A stupid, neurotic boy…**

**And Hermione knew how to act around those kind of people. She'd been up against kids of that disposition all of her life, primary school all too easily came to mind, and the best way to deal with them… stare them down. Act physically tough, even if she couldn't actually fight them with her stringy body, and sometimes… Sometimes they would back down.**

'**And if you were, just like the twins I would A), have never become friends with you, B) would undoubtedly have handed you over to McGonegall all those years ago in the girl's bathroom and C), I would never have agreed to help you in any of your little ideas and adventures.'**

'**Oh really?' said Ron, tilting his head. 'So you wouldn't have liked them for the fact that they would have encouraged you to hex Parkinson? Probably helped you! And if any of their –little- adventures had involved giving the Slytherins exactly what they deserved…?'**

**Hermione's own brown eyes narrowed.**

'**Maybe because –their- little adventures aren't worth anything?' she snapped. 'They just have petty little wars, close to what you and Harry keep getting involved into! But sometimes…'**

**With an angry snort, Hermione threw her hands up in her air.**

'**Ah! So now you've changed your mind?' said Ron. 'Decided that maybe our little adventures are worth blemishing your near perfect record of attendance and being a general good boy as a student here? Stopped blaming me and Harry for everything?'**

**Hermione didn't dare take a glance at the steaming form of her other best friend only a foot away from Ron. She'd already had it out with Harry, or at least until she had won the argument and Harry had run out of insults to yell at her. Or at least what was left of his reaction to the words of Hermione's declaration that she had better things to do than save the two's asses when they did yet another remarkably stupid action again.**

**Hermione sighed.**

**It had been doubly unfortunate for her that the fight between herself and Harry had drawn Ron into the Boy's Dormitory and as there was no one else there (Seamus and Dean had fled upon hearing the first raised voice and Neville… Neville was stuck in Remedial Potions again with Snape for the rest of the afternoon)… So, there was no one else left to save her from Ron.**

**It was up to Hermione.**

**As always.**

'**Priorities change,' said Hermione through clenched teeth.**

**Hell, it wasn't as if she was anything like she had been at eleven, when despite the fact that she had felt enveloped in a warm cloak of understanding by being told that there was something more to her… that there was a reason why she had felt different from everyone else and not only that… Here, Hermione could really quench her thirst for the unknown. She had never thought it would be the Supernatural, and magic, but still…**

**She had thought that this would mean that everything would change. That being surrounded by others just like her would mean… But it had only taken her first chance meeting at Platform 9 ¾ in King Cross Station to completely destroy that little notion, but…**

**She should have known better. Should have trusted her first impressions when she had seen the elder Malfoys and not asked them for help when all of her baggage had fallen off the trolley. No one who she already knew was on this side of the barrier. Her parents hadn't been able to get through. **

**But that had been quickly kicked out from under her, and she had been taught-**

'**Good of you to admit it,' muttered Ron.**

**Sighing, Hermione could feel her teeth hurt. Too much pressure already on them because of her clenched jaw as she fought against…**

**She knew better. Now. But at the same time, Hermione had learned that despite the fact that Hogwarts was just like primary with its' clicks, social standings and so forth, Hermione had this time managed to… find friends.**

**Even if they weren't really acting like it at the moment. Even if they were arguing with her over everything and all Hermione wanted to do was…**

**It didn't help that Ron was actually winning his side of the argument, despite the fact that his emotional ability to recognise logic when he was angry was practically nil. **

'**I'm your friend, Ron,' said Hermione, 'not with the twins. If they had been through half of what we have-'**

'**You'd have a sense of humour by now?' said Ron. 'Something that actually makes me different from them?'**

'**I'd have killed them by now,' said Hermione. 'You, are still alive.'**

'**For now,' said Ron. 'Maybe Harry and mine's little adventures are going to add to our demise?'**

'**Well hopefully for not something stupid,' said Hermione.**

'**So a good death by something Dark then,' said Ron.**

**Hermione felt her nails dig into the skin of the palm of her hands. She hated it when those two became…despondent. When they started talking as if…**

**But this was where everything would really explode. It was something that hung over all of them, just the three of them, and yet… As time passed, there was more and more talk between them of it happening, even though Hermione, Harry and Ron hoped…**

**Anything said though would blow over. Eventually. So far, none of these arguments had ever become as nasty as their Third Year, and maybe in a few more days…**

**Maybe in a few more days they would all calm down and then… They'd be able to talk to each other again, and then-**

Hermione sniffed.

Strange how her mind brought up –that- little disagreement to the front of her attention. None of the arguments that had existed between herself and her two… between herself, Chess and KOC had been in anyway as destructive as what happened between herself and Bill. At least, not physically anything. The three had always had more… emotional slings.

And of course, there wasn't the added problem of time. And circumstances. Hermione couldn't still be mad at Chess and KOC because of… But with Bill… With Bill there was the time for her to stew, and nothing like… But nothing that could really make her –have- to forgive him.

She could be as bitter as much as she wanted to with Bill.

It still had been bad, the fallout between herself, Chess and KOC over… It had been a stupid argument to have, and Hermione… Over two weeks when the two refused to talk to her and Hermione had had nothing left to her but to fall back into her books and make numerous visits to…

Hermione angrily shook her head, immediately feeling an arm wrap itself around her waist. She was pulled as much as possible into the embrace of her Comfort in order to not unseat her from her position as Hermione…

'Nearly finished,' Charlie's soft voice whispered into her ear, giving her a kiss on her temple as an added sign of comfort.

But not what could really help Hermione at this moment. The First Phase of IT was bad enough; too much time for Hermione to think even with her needed participation, but also…

Also it gave her plenty of time for the fear of what was going to happen next to grow over her. Make her remember…

'Could have managed to get it all done earlier if there had been a chance of getting up at a decent hour,' muttered the voice of Fred from the other side of the circle from underneath his hood.

'Mione needed her sleep,' hissed Bill, his voice low as to not interrupt Lee's current part in the ritual, connecting yet another set of streams between the Safe Area they had set up in the clearing… and towards their goal.

'Getting IT over with in the morning would have at least led Hermione to be able to relax for more of the day,' cut in George, who had been carefully placed at least one away from his twin, in the vain hope (or at least, this was Charlie and Oliver's) that this would keep down the amount of new or re-starts of arguments with Fred and George against… pretty much the rest of the Group, excluding Hermione of course. 'Leaving IT this late means that Hermione has spent all morning worrying about IT.'

'It was decided for the best,' said Bill, voice rising as Oli, sitting next to him, carefully laid a hand on Bill's arm. Not restraining Bill as such, that would be a stupid idea as it wasn't as if Oliver had Charlie's past with Bill. But at least, it was just enough to let Bill know that he was there.

And hopefully reminding Bill of exactly what the Group was in the middle of doing.

'And you've already brought up your objection on that part up,' said Charlie, his grip considerably more obvious as Charlie took over for the latest round of –anger- from the twins. But, it had always been said that it was better for Charlie to be the one to deflect it, rather than have Bill… Bill would turn Wolf on them, Charlie… used reason. 'That is dead and buried.'

'Only in your minds,' said George, voice not exactly cut throat yet (there was still time before Fred and George really managed to get deep into their tempers and really let everyone around them have it).

'And now definitively in yours as well,' replied Charlie. 'We're nearly ready for the Second Phase. There will be no arguments spilling into that.'

Mostly because the last problem any of them needed was an actual display of discord to be shown to any outsiders of their Group. As it was, there were enough objections over this decision, over many of their decisions, but if there was any proof given…

No. She couldn't. She couldn't return to That World. To have that amount of chaos running around her again after…

She had been promised. Promised by her Comforts that she would never have to That World. She'd rather have-

'Last round,' broke in the voice of Lee.

Hermione pulled herself ever so slightly from Charlie's embrace to glance over at the prone figure of Lee. He had been the one chosen to act as a barrier between the twins, though he was undoubtedly the only one who could really do. Other than Hermione of course, but her actually being allowed to was rare. It wasn't that Fred and George never listened to her, but as the twins were prone to upsetting everyone else… The rest of her Comforts had decided that they would prefer not to add Hermione's own anger to the mix, or her discomfort, and so… Never her.

But this time they weren't able to kick Hermione, or the twins, out of the equation. And so the Group decided that… Lee was going to have to do instead, even though it meant there was only one person between them. And they could still communicate with each other, even if it was just by touch. A practice the twins had perfected years ago between them. But it was better than the other options.

Bill's commanding voice broke through Hermione's thoughts. Her gaze immediately rested on him, on how…

He'd straightened his back, a clear glow of gold in his eyes as he recited his part in the Ritual. He didn't look anything like…

Hermione had very few own memories of what Bill used to be like. She only had really the recollections of the twins and Charlie to go by of what William Weasley had been like before he had been Turned to a Wolf. Before the War had gotten to him and he had…

Hermione only had the brief meeting between herself and him at the… Weasley home, and that… She hadn't really spent any time with him. Other than being present when Bill had made his announcement of arrival at the home, during the meals when… when it had been insisted that everyone eat together, Hermione had… But Bill had spent most of the time with Charlie during that summer, and the two had apparently been gallivanting around the entirety of the United Kingdom otherwise. At least, according to…

And the debacle of the Wizarding Cup had only… He'd been slightly more business mode. A brief glimpse into what Bill would become once the Second War had overtaken them and all of them learnt…

During that time when Bill was slowly becoming a Fighter… Hermione had only been given further glimpses into Bill. She hadn't really ever been around him, he had always been assigned with ones of his own age or older. And Hermione…

Hermione had been forced to grow up around Chess and KOC, being given all the necessary equipment and lessons during those years until… By the time Hermione had once again –met- up with Bill (and Charlie), all emotion had been drained out of her. Not only because of what had happened to her, but also…

She had been taught that emotions got you killed. Emotion made you do stupid things and…

Hermione felt her body jump at that thought, at the reminder of what exactly had brought Bill into her life. Most of the time she could gloss right over it, but other times-

Charlie's body turned into hers, leaning her back into him. The grip returned to being tightened and he was so close… His breath puffed straight into her hair, causing a ripple of warmth…

She could remember this, without really even trying. Could hide it behind everything else, all the other secrets Hermione pretended didn't exist not only to her Comforts but also to herself, and yet…

She could recall the last time when Chess had-

'We need to stop,' cut in Fred's voice, nearly over-riding Bill's own strength in his words who… Wolf was still very much in play. Bill's Wolf did not –like- being over-ruled.

And so Fred earned himself a very stern glare from a pissed off Wolf who warned that the loss of innards was very much imminent.

Hermione guessed, going by Bill's usual displays of dominance. Charlie currently had her head buried into his chest.

'It's too much,' added on George.

'We can't stop now,' said Lee, a Tone of near exasperation (mostly because he had been at the forefront of the twin's current display of temper). 'We've gone too far into IT. If we interrupt it now, then we'll just have to start all over again.'

'Hermione can't handle it,' said Fred, undeniably giving a nod in her direction.

Damn. They must have noticed-

'Not that she would be handling it any better if we had started it earlier,' said George, 'but still… this late in the day has left her more jumpy. Too much time to get that jumpy.'

'There are not that many days left before our window for IT is over,' said Oliver. 'We need to get IT over with.'

'So you think we should just add to all the troubles we've already had concerning IT?' said George. 'Bad enough that we start so late that we've all had too much time to think. And that we wait until today to actually do IT. But add in the fact that all of this is going to be noticeable! They'll notice! And then They'll start up yet another round of how we should be with Them rather here!'

'They will be going down that path anyway,' said Lee.

The little added remark of how –they always do- wasn't said. It wasn't needed to. All of them clearly knew and understood That Problem, but…

'This is it,' interrupted the clear rumble of Bill's Wolf. 'First Phase is complete.'

There was a slight pause as the rest of the Group paused, caught up in the very words that had just erupted from Bill's mouth. They all knew what this meant, and with that… their agitation was even more obvious now.

'You can pull your hoods down now,' Bill added.

Charlie squeezed Hermione's waist tight, before gently releasing one of her arms. Not so that she could use it to worm her way out of his grip, Charlie would be taking care to hold on to her for as long as physically possible (until the Call of IT had been answered), but so that he could slip her hood off her head before dealing with his own.

A loud snort from Fred now that they could be more vocal about their protests. No possibility of interrupting the spells now, so it was clearly a small window of a free for all before…

'Take them off,' Bill snapped, teeth bared and his eye teeth clearly elongated. 'You have been complaining about them ever since you had to put those one this morning. Too itchy. Too heavy. Too much bloody trouble.'

'Because these robes are,' said George, a very clear growl of his own in his voice.

'They're necessary,' said Bill.

'So you say,' said Fred, eyes flashing as he thumped his right fist against the dirt.

Hermione could feel the air tense as she wretched her head from its position nested against Charlie's chest. She had to know. She had to see.

Charlie couldn't hide this from her.

Not the image of Bill pulling himself up from his sitting position and strode over to where the twins were, scattering stones and cracking stones as he did so. Even if Charlie wanted to protect her, tried to push her back up against him even though…

Hermione would still be able to hear the words and from that… From that she could still get a pretty good image of what was going on.

'And who –exactly- is the one who has field knowledge in magical artefacts?' said Bill, leaning over the twins who shot up to their knees as they stared straight back up at him. 'Who knows the best way to gain protection by simple matters such as clothes? Who figured out that layering of clothes could actually give added protection? Who was the one who had prior knowledge of how to make any of this work?'

'Well, how about making sure that the needed extra layers of clothes be –anything- but these things?' said George, pulling at his sleeve of the robe with a look of disgust that rivalled… the time he had been covered in mud apparently specially flown in all the way from the geysers of some American park.

'These robes were used previously in high levels of magic spells,' said Bill. 'And there are always residual magic left behind after each spell cast on the clothes the person wears. You are damn lucky I managed to find these ones to help us.'

'No one asked you to find them for us,' said Fred.

'We don't have a choice,' said Bill. 'We need them for this.'


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

**I thought that this may be a good time to respond to a few of the reviews I have been receiving. I understand that this story can be very frustrating, as it is more being carried through by emotions and therefore there aren't actions to continue it on. For a reader, it can seem that it isn't going anywhere but I assure you that I do know where this story will end and the various mechanics of it.**

**I'm not afraid to admit that this is a Work in Progress. I'd never try to insist that this story makes complete sense and that there will be no slight holes left when I finish this. When I have written the last chapter, I can assure all of my readers that at a later date I will re-do it completely, and make it a much tighter story. But that will not happen during these current postings. I do re-read each chapter before I put it up a couple of times, but that doesn't mean I catch everything. I ask that everyone try to be patient with me, and if you must point out something that you feel that I am not doing right, please try to be constructive. **

**I'm simply asking for a little bit of leeway with this story, as I'm finding it difficult simply writing through emotions. It takes me longer, it makes it much harder and I would ask that some respect be shown over this story.**

**Thank you for your time.**

**Twi**

It was only the slightest of scrambles, nothing really that would be noticeable (hopefully) but the entire Group had to look presentable as otherwise… There were already too many obvious signs, if the Group were to be looked at closely and considering how long the Contact of IT had known them, then there was a good chance…

But Bill's latest spat with Fred and George had left the twins red in the face, despite extra time being taken (that they didn't have) to coax them into drinking numerous cups of water to try and return normal colour to their skin, and control their breathing again. Even with the precious minutes lost before the last words were spoken, Fred and George were rocking back and forth on their heels, their lips thinly pressed when they weren't adding words very softly under their breath and though their gaze was strictly on the ground before them… One wrong word and they'd start all over again.

And then there was Bill… Bill had returned to a seating position, but being able to remain there… It was an obvious farce. The sheer tension running through his straight laced body made him look as though he was shimmering. As if his control of being able to keep sane, to keep his Wolf from taking over was… nil.

Hermione could remember each and every time that Bill had lost it so bad that his Wolf had reared its' head. Or at least, since Bill had become her Comfort and he could no longer hide it from her. The rest of the Males always tried to keep such instances from her, but while that did mean she was protected from the worst of it, it also meant that Hermione…

She was never allowed to participate, to have any actual say in any of these temper tantrums. She was around for the entire build up, the signs of what was to come, but then shut away when the blow-out happened. It left Hermione with the feeling that…

She had no chance to resolve it. Not for her peace of mind. The Males could recover from all of it, but Hermione was always left hanging…

And here was another build-up of something that Hermione would have no part in. One that was already slowly being pulled into play, with Charlie… Charlie was already taking on his part of being the Voice of Reason. He appeared to be completely calm, and at ease. He was resting back comfortably on the bank of his ankles, arms wide and palms out and an expression of complete passiveness in his weather-beaten face. Almost as if he was…

Bill had once referred that stance as the –damn posture of an experienced Dragon Keeper before a very pissed off charge-. Bill had been one of the few to ever see Charlie when he was at his old Dragon Camp back in Romania. The twins had never been given permission to go there, as the… as their family had never collectively gone together. But Bill…

Bill had given long descriptions of how fool-hardy Charlie had always acted around his precious dragons. Never mind the fact that Bill was known (at least by the stories he would admit to and what they heard through the grapevine of other Treasure Finders) to be just as –stupid-, to Bill… there was a great difference between going into precarious and bobby trapped areas and fire-breathing creatures that couldn't be reasoned with.

It was still a source of a few disagreements between the two, when they dared to talk of the past. Of what their lives used to be before the War had overtaken them.

Hermione would have preferred if that was what this was all about, that Bill and Charlie were having yet another one of those –talks- over their old jobs and with Fred and George adding their own pieces (mostly accusing Bill of pot calling the kettle black). The entire conversation snowballing and Hermione… remaining on the outside.

As long as they forgot about her, as they had now. There were too many balls up in the air, and so Charlie was paying more attention to Bill and the twins, than her. Lee, to a lesser degree was doing the same, though he was watching Fred and George with much more degree of care. And Oli… even Oli, the one who usually picked up the loose ends, was holding too much concern over what Bill might possibly do.

The words snarled from Fred and George's lips had hardly been kind (though they rarely were now. The twins were… even more bitter after all of these years) and so their last snap of –Bill, get it through your bloody head that you can't keep demanding whatever you want! We're not some lackies with no brain who just mindlessly do what everyone else likes !- And then there had been Bill's response…

Hermione could understand why she wasn't the key concern of any of her Comforts. It hurt slightly, these past few years had taught her exactly how important she was to them and so… She complained about it. Yes, she ranted in her head how they were too possessive over and she wanted more breathing space. But still…

Damn. Selfish little bitch, wasn't she? Wanted her own way, all the time. First wanted to be left alone, but when she was granted that, all she could think of was that she –needed- them to pay attention to her.

Hermione's eyes closed.

How many times had she protested to herself that she would never want them wrapped around her little finger? Have them falling over themselves in order to keep her happy. Never wanted to be one of those –girls-.

And yet she was, wasn't she?

Time to herself. Rare moments to just think. No one watching her, other than every now and then glancing in her direction but as she wasn't being held in anyone's grip or having someone constantly whispering in her ear in an attempt to keep her calm amidst all the rowing, Hermione was actually… being allowed to just go through her own thoughts. She could…

Except none of them were pleasant.

Hermione snorted.

Not that they ever were. Hermione could count the amount of times when she could let them just flow and she would be able to… smile over them on one hand. That small memory of her, Chess and KOC in…

It all destroyed what little good was left in this day, just as this latest one... Bill had been right, in pushing back the actual time of when they started the Ritual for IT. Not for what he thought for. Not now.

And Fred and George were half correct in their assumption of pushing for IT to be carried out earlier in the day. Waiting for IT was bad enough. All the thoughts of what could and what could happen did tear at the very fabric of her mind, but it was afterwards…

It was the consequences of IT that were far worse. That was when everything she knew of the past, everything that she was trying to hide from herself was pulled back to the forefront and that any barriers she had oh so carefully constructed around the last IT were shred to pieces.

She couldn't escape from all the –trouble- then.

'Speckles will hardly have moved –that- far from the castle,' hissed Fred, breaking the near peace that had erupted around them. The fact that the three involved in the current argument had toned down to glares and slight flexes of muscles was as close to a truce as possible, if there was no resolution.

Fred's neck strained as he craned forwards from his position on the ground, a sneer thrown in the general direction of Bill.

Hermione sighed softly.

Well, at least they weren't trying to Challenge Bill. No direct eye contact, though there was still a bit of stomping around from their seated position. But even with that small amount, it might be enough-

'She was seen two towns over several days ago,' replied Lee, his voice still remaining collected despite the fact that it should have… He'd shouted himself hoarse during the argument between Bill and the twins, and the pain from the scratchiness of his throat could have… Lee had every right to have long ago lost his patience with Bill, Fred and George, and yet- 'She travels. She has to, especially with-'

'But not as much as she used to,' cut in George, his body swaying slightly to the side (away from Fred) as if he was trying to take Oliver into his confidence by nearly spitting into his ear. 'And since she was seen so far away from That Place, it means there's a potential that she's realised-'

'Don't bring me into –that- mess,' Oliver replied, rolling his eyes as he gave George a small push back. 'I have already apologised for making that mistake.'

'You were seen!' said George, using his body almost as if it was a boulder and smashing Oliver back.

'I gave nothing away!' said Oliver. 'There is no reason that any of Them to think that the rest of us were close! All They would have thought was that-'

'And none of Them are stupid enough to actually think that we would venture very far from each other,' said Fred, his body actually shifting off his heels as he nearly lurched forward, only to be pulled back by Lee. 'They know what we are like, and They –know- what we're like with Hermione!'

Hermione's body instantly froze, immediately feeling all eyes switch onto her. But she was careful. She didn't raise her head to meet any of their gazes, instead fixing upon the boulder that was acting as a centre point for this entire Ritual, because if she did… They'd see the emotions running through her eyes, and that would be enough…

She wouldn't add to the catalyst she already was and start it all over again.

Bad enough that she already seemed to have the ability to do so –just- by being around her Comforts.

'She is the last!' snarled in Bill's voice. 'I will not lose her as we have all the rest!'

Yes.

She was the last one.

The last Female.

The last girl of the… their family. She hadn't been born to the family, just like Ali, Katie or Angelina, but she had been one of the four to Join. Become a sister, with the same status as… Her.

And so when the last Males of the family had gathered together, had grouped around their last Female after the death of… Her, Hermione's future Comforts had sworn to take her away from everything, protect her far away from everyone.

The death of Her had been the last straw for Hermione.

**-There should be this much blood. How could there be so much when…? But she was so small. How could this much be leaking out of her little body when she barely looked as though...?**

**It was as if it was swallowing her, pooling around the prone body. The darkness, the blackness…**

**Wasn't blood supposed to be red? Blood like her Sister's hair? Hermione had seen it before, flowing from other bodies and it had always…**

**Blood was supposed to be a life force. Full of energy that swirled even when it was showing the mortality of the one it used to contain within. But this… It was clumpy, darker and so dull compared to…**

**Her Sister's hair was like fire, flickering. Always so full of light and bounce. It took every opportunity to swing back and forth against her body and had just been one of the many parts of her Sister's body that was full of vitality. But now…**

**Now her blood had to prove otherwise. It just had to be contrary to everything that Hermione's Sister had always been. A large part of her Sister that…**

**Now it meant that Hermione's Sister was gone, life snuffed out. The one Female…**

**No one was supposed to have been able to get to Ginny. Not her. She was so carefully kept within the walls of Hogwarts, not allowed to be a Field Healer. The Darkness wasn't supposed to be able to get in, to get to her. And yet…**

**The Darkness had managed it. Had somehow seeped through the gates and the shields that had kept them out so many times before but this time… had failed. **

**And so the Female that all of them had thought would be safe, safer than Hermione who still insisted being allowed out to Fight, had… **

**But how could any of them have expected Ginny to not fight back, to not protect the wounded in the Sick Wing after the Darkness had stormed through the doors? Ginny was a Gryffindor. She did what was right-**

The tremors pulled themselves through the very threads of her body. Hermione couldn't even pinpoint a starting point, not within her. It was as if it was simultaneously trying to explode from every part of her body, running in and around each other as she felt herself nearly shake apart. She couldn't even hold herself up, as the memory of Her…

She had been Hermione's last remaining friend; of the ones close to her age. The last one of Hermione's Group still alive and one of the few reasons that Hermione had been able to keep herself semi-capable after the ordeal of (Hermione swallowed) Chess and KOC Passing…

'Breathe Mione,' whispered a voice against her cheek, his warm breath gently puffing on her skin and reminding her… Every part of her body once again covered. She was wrapped back up in a cocoon of being safe. Of being held in complete comfort. There should be a better phrase to describe it, but…

Words failed her again. They didn't use to. She had always read so many books, serious and so on, that the flowery writing and adept point of phrases easily spun around in her mind that when she needed them, they came to the forefront of her mind and Hermione… could adapt them to use against the ones around her.

But circumstances had changed. Hermione no longer threw herself into what used to be able to consume her, because… They didn't keep her from her thoughts anymore. They didn't have the power and so… What was the point? Hermione needed peace, and if books couldn't give that to her anymore…

It was only her Comforts who could return her to that state again with their choice in books for her.

So she should be able to give them the due thanks by being able to at least explain how she felt about them. There had to be more ways to explain exactly how she felt about her Comforts. The Males deserved it.

It was the least Hermione could do considering how many years they had been looking after her.

'Breathe Mione,' continued on the voice, 'and with each breath, all the badness will be let out.'

And that turn of phrase informed Hermione exactly who had strode across the clearing, gathered her up and left her… She was hanging loosely in Bill's grip, her upper body pushed up against his chest as her legs… Hardly dignified but Bill…

Bill's –need- had taken over the entire situation. All he and his Wolf could think of was that he –had- to have the last Female within his grasp because Hermione was… suffering.

And hadn't Hermione once again picked the perfect time to let her emotions get the better of her? Everyone was already on tender hooks, and with the entire Group breaking through the boundaries that allowed them to function normally because of IT… A bad time for Hermione to have… one of her turns.

Hermione's lips trembled.

Pink Floyd. A very strange –gift- from-

'There,' said Bill, the Wolf still present in his voice, in his body, but the tension… It was no longer a sign of Dominance over her. It had turned to Bill once again becoming a comforter. Bill was exuding the strong presence of a protector.

The Wolf would make sure that nothing could go wrong. The Wolf would physically keep all the –bad- out.

'There,' he continued on. 'It's being released with every breath you take. All you are inhaling is the good. That is all that is there. All that is surrounding you. And the Group. Within this Group…'

'I see that I may have interrupted something,' cut in a new voice, A Female voice, one that-'

'No,' replied Charlie's voice, as Hermione felt Bill respond to the interruption, and the opportunity Charlie was giving him. He used it to fold into himself, carefully levelling his body onto the ground so that her legs nearly ended up squashed against his. One of his arms curled around, underneath her armpit as the other pulled out her legs, sliding her onto her side. Her legs given some room, though not her upper body. Bill still crushed that part of her against his chest.

'No,' Charlie continued as Bill did the last re-arrangement of his body and hers, using small touches and pushes until the two of them were comfortable. 'We are ready for this Meeting to take place.'

'Another time, of course, may be arranged,' said the new voice, 'to suit you better. I would not wish to have you at such a disadvantage.'

In other words: weakness. Such a slight of character, something that was viewed with contempt due to the amount of problems it would cause, had been drummed out of Hermione and her Group due to the War. Hermione knew that this was to give Hermione and her friends the best chance , that Speckles (previously known as Tabby before…) were determined for all of the Young Ones to survive.

Only, it hadn't worked. Had it? Out of all the ones that Speckles and the rest of the… adults had Trained… Hermione and her Comforts were one of the few still alive. Not anything for the adults to be proud of, to point out. And something that the War had proven… conquering it still wasn't enough.

Much to the disappointment of the adults, and to Hermione and her Group. Not something that any of them wanted to be reminded of. Bringing it up…

Hermione doubted that it was sheer malice on the part of Speckles. Even if Speckles was given further opportunities that proved that Hermione and her Comforts were not up to their old standards, the adult…

It was simply a remark. A reminded from Speckles of exactly what the adult thought over… the entire arrangement Hermione's Comfort had insisted upon.

That was what Speckles viewed as much more important. The ones that the Group had left behind had never agreed with the idea of Hermione and her Comforts remaining away.

'We are fully capable of continuing on with the conversation,' said Charlie's voice again. 'No need for any other arrangement to be made.'

Charlie's business tone. Another rarity for Hermione to hear, because even when Charlie was taking over due to Bill once again arguing with the twins (and Lee), it was still… slightly submissive and reactionary. Hermione had been told by the rest of her Comforts that before the War, it had been his default tone concerning his work with dragons. Understandable, as the creatures were hardly to be joked around about. And that the rest of the time, Charlie had always been… playful. A complete and utter kid.

'Think the twins,' She had once said, 'but actually knows when to draw the line.'

But Bill had always been Head; the eldest son of the family and once the War had thrown itself on top of them… Bill had been in Charge of the Group that he and Charlie had Joined.

'So you may as well continue on with the news of what has happened since the last time we have spoken to you, McGonegall,' called out Fred.

'Can't believe that a year has already passed,' added in George's slightly –mocking- Tone. 'So much must have happened during that time.'

It earned him a not very happy glance from Charlie, though undoubtedly it was accompanied by ones from Oliver and/or Lee.

It was not a good idea to piss off the adult more than she already was brimming with. Speckles didn't agree with their hiding, and any teasing of what Hermione and her Comforts were ignoring…?

IT was bad enough without having Speckles annoyed further.

'A year gives time for many events,' replied McGonegall from within the large image hovering in the middle of them, wisps of smoke curling and unfurling around the edges. 'And there can be enough of them to lead to this being urgent.'

'Enough to make the newspapers?' said Fred. He didn't have the same –fun- in his voice as his twin. There was a hardness underlining in, and it was hardly anything close to what… To what Hermione could remember, from all of these years ago. When Hermione had been at school with them, when she had seen the slightly harsher fringes of what passed as the Public Side of them…

It had never been as prominent as it was now. Hardly any reason for them to though, was there? The more private parts of them that were darker… that was from the War. That had been pulled out of Fred and George, much to Hermione's displease.

She could have quite happily continued on her life believing that the twins… But the War, and the consequent newspaper articles…

'The War has been making the papers for quite some time now,' replied McGonegall, cool and collected as always and yet… There was till the hint of sharpness that Hermione remembered from when she had been a student. It wasn't as affective as it had been, not anymore.

Hermione had a War to harden her.

'We ignore all newspapers,' interrupted Charlie.

'Yes,' said McGonegall, her eyes only ever so slightly narrowing, 'as you have previously stated.'

'Along with any other news media,' added Lee.

'Something that you continue to insist upon doing,' said McGonegall, 'despite the fact-'

'We can remain where we are,' said Bill, growling, 'for as long as –we- wish.'

His voice purred against her, his hold remaining loose though the body posture the Head of That Place returned to him…

'No,' said McGonegall, 'I do not believe that you can keep it for much longer. The War-'

'The War has nothing to do with us,' said Bill, voice tighter and…

There returned the Wolf, slipping away from protector and returning to… I am Head. Don't dare argue against me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Note:**

**Apologies once again for the lateness of this chapter finally being Posted. Managed to get my brain juices going and this is the result. Due to the fact that Real Life is still kicking my ass at the most inopertune moments and dragging off my Muses, I'm not sure when the next one will be.**

**To try and make this slightly easier for any readers who are trying to follow this story (or my other one), I will be leaving updates on my Profile's Page. So, if anyone wishes to know when the next chapter will be out, or anything else, please check there for this information.**

**Lady Twi**

'These latest sightings impact your own...status as In Hiding,' stated Speckles, voice ever so slightly brimming with impatience as her narrowed eyes... Not a helpful method in winning over an argument with any of the Group, but in particular with Bill. His own attitude towards any Challengess, (what else could it be seen as?), hardly led to him returning to logic and pushing down any urge of his Wolf.

Speckles' luck in being in another country gave her room, but not-

Bill snorted, drawing attention away from the pinched look in Speckles' face to an expression... Forget any line of communication remaining open. Bill's snarl twisting across his lips clearly registered as contempt for Speckles' attempts to loom over the Group's own decision to be alone.

At one point, Speckles' rights over their lives never registered as anything more than help. An older member of the community, respected and correctly so, with only the good of the ones she cared for fixated in all of her pointed advice. But years... Years, Hell. How about a War? Battles that turned Speckles into the pale shadow of what she used to be in their eyes. Admiration and respect dwindling to nothing more than-

'You're part in this War gives excellent oppertunity to chase down these individuals,' replied Bill, golden eyes watching the small movements of Speckles... Well, Speckles hardly ever shied away from recognising the signs of quickly losing any chance of remaining alive, facing off Bill wouldn't change that.

And Speckles knew other Wolves.

'Decided that this is no longer your problem?' hissed in Fred's voice from his corner of the clearing,

'You are Head of your Group, Bill,' said Speckles, shoulders rising indignantly as her skin whitened further. 'The safety of it always remains your top priority and-'

'I am well aware of my responsibilities,' said Bill through gritted teeth, 'and –I- do not need advice on it.'

Speckles' nostrils flared.

'I try to never belittle anyone by being rude about their plans,' she continued, 'yet this insistance of keeping your Group in supposed Hiding-'

'We decided,' interrupted Bill, 'it was for the best.'

'Your stubborness will not lead to what's best,' said Speckles.

Stubborness. Hermione's own lips twisted at this sheer... Stubborn Creatures recognised their own, hadn't that been a saying of one of the other...

'Compared to your own?' said Bill. 'You'd prefer for all of us to be under direct fire? Remain where we could be easily found and lose our lives!'

'We're not returning,' threw in George's voice, body obscured by the physical restraint of Oliver, leaning in along with Lee, to restrict any movement.

'We all understand your need to disappear,' cut in Speckles, 'and for the first year-'

'There's no time frame for grief,' interrupted Bill. 'After one year, we were in no state to return and the time away allowed us to see reason.'

'There is no reason in War,' said Speckles. 'And it will certainly not allow you to apply reason to it. Any attempt to use logic to keep yourself out of the War-'

'This War continues to carry along –absolutely- fine with us,' Bill growled. 'It hardly needs us participating to add to its' mayhem.'

'It won't let you remain on the side lines,' replied Speckles, a shock of grey hair pulling loose from her tight bun (still one of her prominent features) with a jerky shake of her head. 'It's proved itself before this of exactly that, especially to you, and-'

'The War spat us out several years ago!' snapped Bill. 'None of us are giving it a chance to do it again!'

'It's not finished with any of you yet!' replied Speckles, her own corners of her mouth flickering into a tell-tale sign of...

'Well we're finished with it!' yelled Fred, a sudden flury of bodies as he attempted to lunge out of the hold of Oliver and Lee, only with a thump... Dust rose in a cloud as his knees hit the ground, Oliver's arms dragging him back in to enfold him once more.

'The War can go and just fuck itself if it thinks any of us are being dragged being in!' said Bill.

'None of the Dark Ones have given up their search to find you,' said Speckles, 'and they will continue to do so until all of you are dead!'

'Well we're hardly going to make it easier for them...professor!' snarled George.

'And Bellatrix?' continued on Speckles. 'Her need to punish-!'

'That Bitch will never get her hands on Mione again!' screamed Fred, squirming his way out of their grip this time and lunging towards the the spectre of Speckles. Tripping over his own feet, Fred nearly slammed into the large ball of mist Speckles was contained within as George's voice declared:

'After everything That Bitch has done to our family-!'

'Bellatrix will never leave anything complete, especially when it concerns a slight against her family! She feels-!' interrupted Speckles, voice rising above the almost calm she'd maintained since the beginning of the conversation.

'Her entire family is a blight against the World!' said George, almost attempting to jump out of Oliver and Lee's hands, only with a yell to be dragged back in again. 'The death of-!'

'Bellatrix will finish what she started!' snapped Speckles.

That gentle bubbling, the wave of nervousness, sick feeling rolling in waves against her stomach, against every moveable section of her body, rose above her throat. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to squeese out every drop of pity through her eyes in streams of tears. She wanted to scream until her throat became raw and at the same time, whimper as she curled into a corner. Those small flinches... they would become more.

They would become noticeable.

Anchor. She needed that weight to keep it from overflowing, from pushing itself out of every pore in her skin and... It wouldn't only be tears. There would be...blood. A relase of...

Destructions. Things broken. Things thrown. Torn skin. Bruises.

Harsh words.

All never-ending continious circles of emotions pulled from their safety boxes and unleashed among the ones in close contact.

Nothing against her. Nothing done to her. But her Comforts...

She would be forced to watch as they self-destructed.

And here was the first yank to force them down that path. That Bitch...

Hermione shivered.

Bill hadn't been the one to see the direct aftermath. He'd been present for the resulting nightmares, weeks later, but the ones who had dragged her out of that cell...

Yet Fred and George...still on the other side, already recovered to semi-controllable emotions. Oliver's arms wrapped once again around Fred's shoulders, pulling him back to his sitting postion, and Lee... Hardly comfortable, but if George wanted to pull himself free... He'd first have to somehow unhook Lee's hands around his wait and break the grip on his wrist.

Too much further ammo for Speckles if Hermione dashed across the clearing. Besides, Hermione highly doubted that her legs would be able to carry her. That jelly feeling rippling through her skin...

And if Hermione broke apart in front of Speckles, her Comforts...

Bill. She could trust Bill to exude that act of being strong, allow that to surround her like a blanket. He would-

'Bellatrix's revenge will lead to the discovery of where you're Hiding,' cut in Speckles. 'You insist on cutting yourselves from the War, and yet your very actions will lead to your discovery under unpleasant circumstances!'

'You are the ones who are looking for new ways to kill That Bitch yourselves!' said Bill, 'so don't keep yourselves from continuing to do so on our account!'

'And we are perfectly capable of defending ourselves,' interrupted Lee's voice, head slightly raised, yet his dreadlocks only revealing a twitching of his mouth and narrowed eyes. Closed off, leaving only the impression of his true feelings...by the white patches around his knuckles and that could be due to his grip, 'as you are well aware. In fact, if I remember correctly, all of you...professors congratulated yourselves on how we managed to –adapt- to the War. Extremely pleased over how we picked up the necessary fighting skills that allowed you to concentrate more on the War, and less on us.'

'That does not mean that I would advocate this idea of risking a Group's safety by remaining so small!' snapped Speckles, nose scrunched up inn a grimance, 'and in such a remote area! That hardly gives you hope of sucessfully facing off against a full-frontal assault by the Dark Ones! Numbers equal safety, as you well know!'

'Really?' hissed George. 'You're advocating that when you can't even sure that for the ones left?'

Fred snorted.

'We do everything we can to ensure our own safety,' said Speckles, nose twitching in...almost irritation. 'But it is still War! No one can assure-'

'A War that's kicking your ass?' snarled George. 'Tell us, what is the latest toll against your Side, now?'

'At least that is something that the War has made easier,' said Fred, with another snort. 'Just gather your remaining troops in The Great Hall. Hell, by now they'd probably all fit in the small Ante-Chamber off it.'

And there it was, that look... The one that Hermione's exposure to had dipped once the entire Group had disappeared from the world. Take them away from what they considered a blight, and the twins' need for that disgust and annoyance...

Yet no more of those...things. No more confrontations, no more Creatures ruffling their skins for an excuse to hurt them. Or at least, no more Darkness.

Her Comforts had sworn.

'They are not burying their heads in the sand!' screeched Speckles, voice rising again to-

**-In trouble again. Professor McGonegall baring down on them from her position by the side of Dumbledore's desk. The rapping of her long fingers against the wooden furniture echoing in the background of the Headmaster's voice...**

**Hermione could feel Ron shift uneasily by her side, the slightest brushing of his arm against her as he... Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the exchanging of glances over...**

**Since when had something as stupid as what the adults –felt- ever registered as anything other than a suggestion? Or at least, in Ron and Harry's eyes. Hermione's insistance to the contrary was usually met with disgruntled grunts and the rolling of eyes, along with a –Mione, since when have rules ever worked in our favour? None of our adventures work unless we completely ignore them!-**

**And an arm from one of the boys' loosely hanging over her shoulder.**

**All of this easily slotted into the Dark Lord's obsession of Harry, (Hermione and Ron were thrown into the equation due to their ties to him), and so for Dumbledore and McGonegall to become all –flustered- because the three had decided to grab the bull by the horns and...**

**There had been worse. Not much. Hermione had to drift her mind back to closer to the earlier years, the ones before the War errupted, to find them again... but they were there. And the sludge...**

**Broken bones, cuts and a few days spent under the tneder loving care of the Healers. In the past it would have undoubtedly horrified her, but War changed everything. And despite what the adults wanted...**

**The three couldn't be kept in the shadows. The Dark Lord wouldn't allow it, and Harry, Ron and Hermione certainly weren't letting everyone else make decisions for them about their own lives. They were old enough. They'd been involved in this bloody War for too many years. **

**None of them would be sidelined after being integral to the upcoming Darkness. **

'**Have you been listening to anything being said?' cut in McGonegall's voice, causing Hermione's head to slightly jerk. As her brown eyes met the old Transfiguration's professor, Hermione nearly hissed upon feeling Ron's not so gentle jab into her stomach.**

**How could he recriminate her when Hermione –knew- that he was away with the faeries himself?**

'**We couldn't allow Malfoy to continue shadowing his father,' replied Harry, an almost even keel to his voice. Almost. Hermione could hear a distinct...rumbling of anger there as well. 'So we did something about it.'**

'**And that somehow contributed to the three of you being chased by Aurors?' said McGonegall, 'untold amount of damage to various areas of Diagon Alley and three days in the cells!'**

'**Preferred if Malfoy had rubbed even more shoulders with his father's shadier –friends-?' replied Ron, a twist to the corner of his lips. **

'**Getting into a...' said McGonegall, nostrils flaring, 'a brawl, in public with Draco Malfoy-!'**

'**He barely scratched us,' muttered Ron. **

'**But you scratched him!' hissed McGonegall. 'We need him to remain as an important cog within the Dark Ones, uninterrupted! Forcing him to be treated by their own Med-Wizards for months, keeping him out of the action will only hurt our chances of disrupting their lines!'**

'**And that's what we did,' said Harry, 'and managed it in over half the time you would have.'**

'**There were plans put in place that would accomplish this,' said McGonegall through gritted teeth.**

**Ron snorted.-**

Hermione gasped, choking in on that necessary breath after the interlude of...that memory. She didn't want it. She didn't want this! She didn't want –that- storming around her head with an old professor... watching on.


	13. Chapter 13

Fred trailed his fingers along her right arm, his eyes... They'd return to that gentle caress in his gaze that to Hermine reminded her of... She could see Chess in him. Not just the physicality, but also...

Sharpness. A different kind obviously, but their eyes... Eyes that didn't miss anything, despite the way Fred (or George) acted, the way he (they) made everyone percieve him (them). Complete joker, never serious, and yet... Even if it was just the slightest gesture on her part, any small sign resulted in Fred...

Chess appeared to all those outside of the Inner Group that had made up the three of them, or their close friends and family members, as smart as a tool chess missing its' spinner. And yet, if he was put in front of a chess board and.-

Another stroke of Fred's fingers, a pull to a reminder for Hermione that he knew... He knew how much she was hurting because of-

'Once upon a time,' said Fred, head cocked as if...

And yet Hermione knew that within those simple words lay the hook. A lead that Fred expected her to grab, a poke to pull Hermione back into her usual...behaviour simply by the sheer annoyance of listening to-

Only, the pair of them weren't taking any chances. Not a single one. Barely had Fred's voice trailed off, time allowed for Hermione's response, when she was poked, courtesy of George. Reminding her of his presence, of how he, just like his brother, wouldn't let her next round of sleep be in any way ruined by-

'Come on Mione,' cut in George, 'you really want us to make us go further? Might even force us to repeat it.'

His following laughter ever so slightly softened the barb of his insinuations. Yet, it was still there. Still underlining his words, even if he did try to hide it from her. Tried to ignore the fact that George... was unable to handle what they had been told.

All they had been told.

'And you know that if you allow that,' added in Fred, 'then the next words will be, there was a beautiful princess with gold hair.'

George gently nudged her with his shoulder, his hand sliding from its previous position on her back to her hip, as he used the other to gently pull Hermione into turning him into a human cushion.

'You've told us multiple times that you hate that,' George said, his breath gently tickling her cheek. 'So... up to you.'

Hardly an actual choice for her. It still remained a tease, a way for the two to engage with her and leave her no option for her throughts to wander back to anything... dangerous.

But that didn't mean that Hermione liked it any better, even if somewhere deep in the back of her mind... She knew it was for her own good, but being forced through –that- again...

The earlier ministrations of the twins to –help- her hadn't needed such measures to be taken. She'd managed through all of that, and the actual situation... It had hardly changed. Hermione was still...

Still the same as she had been that morning. She couldn't let any of her Comforts think... She couldn't worry them further. Couldn't add to the problems of the ones they cared about. Being told that the-

The cup in her right hand squeaked in protest against the sudden increase of grip.

'Mione,' cut in Fred's voice. 'Don't take out your annoyance on the cup. Charlie's going to get pissed if you do something to his favourite mug.'

'And no throwing your tea at us either, Mione,' added George. 'No matter how disgusted you are.'

'Because that would be a complete waste of a good beverage,' muttered Fred. 'It's not even one of Bill's concoctions.'

His hand covered the rim, as if to prove his point, but really... It served as another sign of the twin's complete refusal to acknowledge that her body was once again betraying her because as long as they kept to that vein, then maybe...

Maybe they wouldn't be a repeat of what happened earlier, when her own laughter had descended into... Or something worse such as Hermione...

'And then we'd have to punish you for that,' said George. 'Don't think you'd like that.'

Fred nodded, before he twisted his neck to bury his face into her loose locks. And promptly pretended to give her a wet rasberry. Hermione's instinct to jab him with her elbow was slightly calmed by the immediate consequences for Fred for doing so.

He choked on the trails of her long brown hair that latched themselves onto his lips for his attempt to –lighten- the conversation.

'Might even dig out that cuddly bear,' said George, -rescuing- her from any further ministrations of his –troublesome- brother by leaning even more onto his side and pulling her more into his embrace.

Fred, as per usual, objected with an:

'Oi!'

George snorted.

'Where'd we leave it anyway?' continued on George, rolling his eyes as Fred attempted to retain his previous grip by wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist. And using that leverage to attempt to haul Hermione into his hip. George thwarted it by whacking Fred with his free hand, common response to that was to protect wounded area, before giving his twin a little kick. 'Oliver's room?'

With a grunt, Fred pulled out another loose hair of Hermione's from his lips as he glared at the offender. George returned it with one of... Fred completely deserving it, and George wouldn't apologise.

'No, don't think so,' replied Fred, and yet... his eyes had returned on her, proven by his little added touch of sticking his tongue out at her.

His conversation with George was secondary, as Fred's real attention was on her. His affront over something she had caused, the result completely her fault, commanded all of it, despiter Hermione's own opinion... Fred's own fault that Hermione's hair ended up in his mouth.

'Taking extra lessons in being obtuse again, have we?' said George, with a snort. 'Then where do you think it is?'

More point, more sharpness contained within that simple phrase. George's Tone returning to one that last night had nearly-

'Not a hundred percent sure,' replied Fred, with a shrug.

Only, his eyes flickered away from Hermione's face. Just the smallest amount, but enough to betray Fred's own pissiness. His sign that the entire conversation had spilled over from him being annoyed to...

Hermione's eyes squeezed shut.

No. No. Not this. She couldn't handle the twins arguing while she...

No. Selfish of her, but if they fought near her...

She needed them to go away, to battle it out somewhere else where she din't have to hear them. She couldn't add their own problems to the ones-

'Feorge,' cut in George, cocking his head as the two pretended... Even worse. They couldn't hide this from her and it made everything ten times worse. They were all falling apart. Damn Speckles for throwing the information about- 'You wouldn't dare deny Hermione her lovely little scruffy teddy bear, now would you?'

'We-ell,' said Fred, and just like that...

All disappeared again. Like lightning, the spat pushed to the side. Not exactly forgotten, but at the same time... The two returned to normal. Almost. And all for...

'Either you bug whoever has it,' said George. 'Or I do. What's your pleasure?'

Different kinds of relationship bouncing between all of her Comforts. Some got on much better than others, and with the twins... Always best when it concerned Lee. But when they needed to, they could band together. Put aside any past or current grudges and...

Hermione grunted.

But she still preferred it when they could get along. Even if it meant that she would be forced to listen to one of those overly –precious- stories. Even if Hermione would have to endure it, because at least then...

Though it still meant that to her Comforts, Hermione's need to be –looked after- over-rode any pain such objects gave to them. And in the case of that toy-

'Charlie's room,' Fred responded, the words immediately followed by...

Another one of their special looks shared between them, but this one... This one Hermione understood. It clearly annunciated exactly what trouble there would be, simply by adding Charlie to the number of Comforts –helping- Hermione. It had been hard enough to only have Fred and George with her following IT, and if Bill perceived-

'And we still have the Blanket,' added in Fred.

Another –hurt- that could be considered worth more than the actual memory it held. Another option. Another consideration so that Bill would not have to be dealt with, and his-

'That's in the press,' replied George. 'Put it in there so that the boiler could keep it warm.'

Hermione's nose twitched.

Even worse. The addition of Her Blanket to the Toy to the problem just left Hermione with... Should she actually protest? Would it be worth it? The rifts between her Comforts grew with every passing month and this IT...

Bad enough that her Comforts believed that all of it had to be used; more than just one item they always kept close at hand. They had multiple techniques, and items (not just themselves) there for her own benefit. None of her Comforts had anything in comparison to what was there just for Hermione, even Oliver...

Oliver's love for anything to do with his apparent favourite subject led to the remnants of his old broom being carefully stored on the top shelf of his small cupboard within his room. He'd never repair it, or even replace it, but every now and then, the box would be pulled down and-

'Careful Mione,' interrupted George's voice. 'You're going to need to pay attention. We've got worse treats in store for you.'

Hermione's eyes snapped open, her body suddenly warning her of exactly how close he had squeezed his form to hers as yet another form of –persuasian- to improve her mood.

'Don't warn her,' said Fred, rolling his eyes. 'She knows that both only qualify as one complete threat.'

'Think it qualifies more as we have let her know, that we know, that she knows about them,' replied George.

'Knowing that we know it isn't enough?' said Fred with a slightly raised eyebrow.

'Nope,' said George. 'This is Mione. And that's why this warning is also a warning that we know, that she knows, that we know, that it will take more than one complete threat for this to be any worth.'

'And that is why we're bringing in our Special Card?' said Fred.

'Exactly,' said George, 'therefore we need more.'

'Fred,,' whispered Hermione.

The Toy and Her Blanket was enough. Honestly, Fred and George didn't need to do more than that. She didn't want the dynamics of her Comforts to be put under anymore stress, but-

'The Seat?' interrupted Fred's voice, as Hermione...

She couldn't keep herself from wriggling. From physically protesting against having –that- added to the list.

'The Seat,' George repeated.

No. No. Hell no!

'George!' Hermione hissed, an arm scrabbling at the hold on her. Somewhere in her head, Hermione knew that her nails were scraping deeply into the skin, were drawing slight whimpers of pain and curses from that Comfort but to her...

She couldn't allow it. Out of all the things they had at their disposal, the mention and further carrying out of The Seat meant... This had to be fought. More than enough of a reason to raise her voice, to protest, because The Seat... Different kind of loss of freadom. Hermione still restricted to a Comfort's bed, and allowed to remain in the living room. Only, the living room meant staying in The Seat.

On the lap of one of her Comforts, within the hold of their arms as-

Hermione shivered slightly.

They tried, her Comforts, to make sure that the time was spent on what they wanted, the entire time. Always so careful on the titles of books they nicked or bought, and the atmosphere of the room kept to the soothing of the author of Lake Wobegone.

Complete calm, no raised voices above a murmur unless the tone of the story determined it. All of her Comforts on their best behaviour, as ruining the peace of The Seat... One of the worse crimes any of the Males could do.

But her mood wasn't that bad. Not enough instances of her body, of her words, betraying her. No reason for the twins to use –that- as the medthod to pull her even further from her memories.

Hadn't needed it earlier, had they? Helped her recover from the screams racking her body at the sudden memory of the one they had viewed for so many years as a Betrayer, only to suddenly come upon them in the halls of That Place, in deep conversation with...

Hermione inwardly shook her head.

No. The stuffed bear, Her Blanket, the latest round of Disney-esque (C) made up stories... those were enough. No real push for The Seat to be included. Or the written fairy tales and fiction that came with it.

Really.

'We've got a good one for you,' said George, pushing her away from him slightly so that he could arrange her into a position to face him, and she could... see that he –dared- to wiggle his eyebrows at her.

More than enough to warrent a grumble within her throat in reply.

'And it won't be long now before we have it in our hands,' added Fred. 'Don't you worry.'

'And then we'll make sure to regale you with all of the –wonderful- within it,' said George.

'Mostly because we don't think you can handle another rendition of "Alice in Wonderland",' said Fred.

'As even though it's one of your favourite books,' said George.

'We can't risk it becoming an unfavourite,' murmured Fred.

'Definitely not,' added George.

'But I'm afraid that you will have to wait for such delights,' said Fred, 'as we're not allowed to return to that bookshop for at least another couple of weeks.'

'Yeah,' said George with a snort, 'becaue apparently asking the shopkeeper if-'

'George!' interrupted Hermione.

Had to end it there. Couldn't let the two continuing on tag-teaming each other because she... She needed to make them listen. She needed to let them know that she didn't need-

'Enough!'

The new voice had barely finished its' roar before the door banged open, slamming against the dresser.

Hermione knew who it was. Knew who owned those words and who now stormed across the floor towards them. And yet, for her body...

It instinctively shrank back. Tried to curl into the twins to act as wards against the sheer amount of anger approaching them.

'We're providing her with a bedtime story,' said George, head cocked, neck carefully exposed and yet...

Almost enough that it could count as submissive. Almost. Only, contained within it were the tiniest strains of –back off- underlining every single one of his words... Not entirely helpful for the situation, but...

But still, expected. IT hurt, it always forced all they were trying to run from, hit them full force. And this time...

Who of them wanted to remember more of how they had failed? How they had never taken the time to sit back and think... Think over what they knew, and from that realised... Realised that what they had been told, what they had seen, was complete and utter crap. Should have known long before that-

'And exciting her in the process,' broke in Bill's voice from somewhere nearby.

Hermione didn't know exactly where he was in relation to the room, and honestly... she didn't care. She just wanted to remain in Fred and George's arms and wait until... Until it was all over.

'She'll fall asleep,' said George, 'by us. We don't need help. We can do it alone.'

Bill snorted.

'Obviously you do,' replied Bill. 'She's still awake.'

No. No. She'd taken naps earlier and this amount of time inbetween the next one... already barely passing the hour mark so far.

Bill couldn't win this. He'd tear her away from the twins's if he thought it was for the best. If –he- thought it would be better for her. Wouldn't matter what the rest of her Comforts believed, if they disagreed. Or even if Hermione knew that she needed Fred and George. To Bill...

It had been hard enough for the rest of her Comforts to convince Bill that she didn't have to be with him. Oliver had been the deciding factor in the end, as Lee had naturally sided with his old friends while Charlie...

Charlie had resumed his old Task of Keeper of the Peace. Not allowed to choose who he wanted to, instead regulated to trying to keep her Comforts from... falling to complete pieces.

'Our stories lead to her napping,' said Fred.

'Haven't managed it yet,' said Bill. 'You obviously need to do more. –I- can do-'

'Bill,' cut in Charlie's voice, the simple drawl...

More than enough to encourage Hermione to raise her head, to open her eyes so that she could welcome the sight of... Charlie's body sliding up against the doorframe, his gaze solely on his older brother and appearing... to be completely amused. And all of that, a perfect counter to-

'She's fine where she is,' Charlie continued. 'We all have our own methods to get Mione to nap, and for the twins-'

'She needs her sleep!' snapped Bill, 'and they're not fucking doing anything to achieve that!'

Stomping over to George's side of the bed, Bill leaned over with his arms outstretched and clearly demanding-

'Bill, I am,' said Hermione softly, though she knew that she betrayed this by the fact that she hunched back further into the embrace of the twins. Bill wouldn't take it as further proof that Hermione's words were true, instead seeing it as her retreating. As her being... –hurt-. Not by his words, his demands, but because the twins weren't doing enough. And certainly not quickly enough. 'Really. They've kept me in bed ever since I was carried in, and...'

Her voice trailed off at the sight of Bill's lips curling back slightly, his golden eyes glancing over at his twin brothers.

'She better have,' said Bill.

'She hasn't moved from this bed,' said Fred through tightly pressed lips. 'She's been here, with us, the entire time.'

'She should have remained-' growled Bill, only Charlie made sure he was unable to finish, striding across the room and placing a hand on his shoulder.

'Bill,' Charlie said softly,' she needs Fred and George. They're the ones that she has to be with. For –this-.'

Bill's entire body shuddered.

'I don't like it,' he muttered.

Charlie gave the slightest of nods as he sighed.

'I know,' he whispered, 'but this is what has to be.'

Not what Bill wished to hear. He shrugged off Charlie's hold, his breathing becoming more like panting, angry puffs emitting his anger over... everything. And then his head jerked, glowing eyes turning to stare at Hermione. And when his gaze met hers, something unknown, something that Hermione couldn't understand flickering across his eyes... But then with a shake of his head, Bill stormed out and he made an attempt to slam the bedroom door behind him. Only, it resulted in the door bouncing against the frame before once more bashing into the furniture again.

Too close. Almost as if the crack of those words, of that Spell ringing through Hermione's ears. Her body should be screaming, every one of her muscles spasming as the pain rippled through her body... It should be her entire body stretching beyond its' limit and-

'Easy Mione,' said Fred, directly into her ear, his arms cradling her again as they heard Bill storm down the corridor, only to stop...

He couldn't go too far. Still only a few feet away, just like he had been the entire morning. Always hovering, rarely more than a room away except when Oliver and Charlie had made their way to the kitchen to prepare food. None of them could bring themselves to wander any further from each other.

Completely understandable though. News of ones from their past, ones that of nearly every memory of had long ago been shoved into the box of Passed On, suddenly being thrown into their faces again... Had to constantly make sure that the ones who remained, the ones still alive, hadn't joined them. That the entire world they had become accustomed to, hadn't suddenly become skewed with the new information.

'I want her with me,' thundered out Bill's voice, barely controlled and barely held in a whisper.

Bill... Bill wasn't even trying to hide it. His own uncertainity because of IT... all on display.

'Bill,' answered Charlie, and Hermione...

Too much. It was all too much. Reminders of being under the influence of the Dark Ones, and then of IT-

'It's all right, Mione,' cut in Fred, his hands rubbing against her arms as her body... It twitched and spasmed against it all, not even noticing Fred's breath against her cheek. 'It's all right. Charlie is with Bill now. Bill will be fine.'

'It's bad, Bill,' continued on Charlie, 'I know it's bad. There's not only one flashback assaulting her but-'

'It's Those Two!' snapped Bill, a thump as something... a foot or a fist hitting into something else. 'Those Two! Her Boys! More than enough to-!'

That is why she is with Fred and George,' interrupted Charlie, slightly stern, slightly assertive but still...

A calming feature to balance Bill's... current mood.

'But not enough!' said Bill. 'Not enough to counter the fact that fucking McGonegall reminded Hermione of Harry and Ron! Best friend and-!'

'And that is why we're dealing with this one first,' said Charlie. 'Fred and George remain with her in order to-'

'To help her recover,' cut in Bill, 'but for fuckin' Merlin... It's no longer enough! You can see that, Charlie. She screamed the house down earlier and it took them hours to get her to stop. And that was only because her throat was too raw to cry anymore.'

'She doesn't respond as well to anyone else,' said Charlie. 'We've tried. But they were the ones who found her. The ones who got her out. The ones who-'

'Wasted time looking elsewhere,' said Bill.

'No one was sure where they were being held, Bill,' said Charlie softly. 'We all were assigned to dfferent areas, and the twin's Group... They were the ones who got the castle, and the ones who fanned out to search the dungeons.'

Bill's growl rose, bouncing up against the corridors.

'What's important is that she was found,' continued on Charlie, 'and rescued.'

'Considering where she was discovered-' said Bill.

'Bill!' snapped Charlie. 'She fooled everyone. Fred and George didn't know, and they were the ones who found her. No one can be blamed for not realising-'

'Her Mate?' snarled Bill. 'Her best friend? She watched them die beside her! She thought she was joining them! Even after she was pulled out... Merlin! She didn't want to live! She told us that! She begged the Healers to be allowed to die! So when she went quiet...'

An audible gulp through the trailing words.

'Should have bloody realiesed then,' continued on Bill. 'All smiles and laughter during the day, but at night... At night she wandered through Hogwarts, and-'

'But we did find out in the end, Bill,' said Charlie. 'You discovered her in the Girl's Toliet that night, and she opened up to you. She told you.'

'But she...' said Bill, voice cracking and so soft... 'She didn't tell me willingly. I had to drag out nearly every word out through her tears.'

'Still managed it,' said Charlie. 'Mione trusted you. She knew you could give her help. And from there, we all could.'

'Still not damn enough,' muttered Bill.

'Bill,' said Charlie, 'we didn't-'

'How the fuck can we give her help when everything just got worse?'

'Because we didn't know that the War would-'

'How the fuck couldn't we figure that out? Considering everything that happened even before the three were Captured-'

'But we knew when to run,' interrupted Charlie. 'Had enough sense to know that.'

'But not before we lost everyone else,' said Bill. 'Our families. Our best friends. Everyone we cared for.'

'Not everyone, Bill,' said Charlie. 'We still have each other. Still have the seven of us.'


End file.
